Written in Stone
By Krystyna

This is the Tenth in the Captain Cartwright series

Chapter 1

The big room in the main Ponderosa ranch house was dark with shadows although there were lamps glowing faintly here and there as well as the flames from a fire that was still burning in the hearth despite the lateness of the hour. Beside the fire a solitary figure sat in a large leather chair reading from the Territorial Enterprise with the avid attention of a reader enjoying a favourite novel. After some moments and just as the clock struck the hour Ben Cartwright tossed the newspaper onto the table with a shake of the head as he then turned to reach for his pipe which he had left unattended for some time. He filled the bowl from a plug of tobacco and then lit a spill of paper from the fire which he conveyed to light his pipe, after some seconds of drawing hard upon the stem he finally succeeded in getting the tobacco to glow and released a light plume of smoke from his lips as he sunk back into his chair.

It was March 1877 and a lot had happened since the end of 1876 . Ben smoked his pipe and gazed up at the ceiling as he thought over some of the events that had returned to mind since reading some items in the newspaper. He speculated, as many were at that time, upon the policies of the new President with regards to the Indian question, Ben recalled reading that there were concerns about China and the number of Chinese coming into the United States which figured largely upon the Presidents mind as well as the situation in regards to the economy at the time.

Ben puffed harder and shook his head as he recalled the mess that had taken place with this particular electing of a President. The Democratic party had been secure of the majority number of votes in the South and had nominated Samuel J. Tilden as their Presidential candidate. The Republicans decided not to re-nominate Grant for various reasons and had put forward the Governor for Ohio, Rutherford B Hayes. Not much had been known about him except that he had served in the Union Army as a General and performed well in that capacity. 

At the election Tilden had received 184 votes of the 185 needed to become President and Hayes only 165. It had seemed a clear result until the dispute concerning South Carolina, Louisiana and Florida which had resulted in Congress passing the Electoral Count Act in 1877 so that the votes could be counted in a fair way. As a result Tilden lost out and had to give way to Hayes after all.

It had all been very political, and the furrows on Ben’s broad forehead deepened as he remembered the points that had been brought back to the readers’ attention in DeQuille’s Editorial, how the Democrats had agreed to let Hayes become President if he withdrew Federal troops from the South. This was agreed and on the 4th March 1877 Hayes was sworn in as President. DeQuille’s Editorial had been a reminder of the fact that troops had been withdrawn from South Carolina and Louisiana. Politically it had become known as The Compromise of 1877 and had Ben been asked what he would have called it there would no doubt have been a more colourful title given. Although such a withdrawal was long overdue the circumstances in which it had been done smacked to him rather as a bribe.

He sighed, removed his pipe and glared at it as though it was the cause of most of his problems before sticking it back in his mouth . He stretched out his long legs and pondered a little over the events of the past few days sending smoke signals drifting up into the ceiling. He was slightly smiling to himself over some event when he heard the footsteps of his son, Hoss, and raised his dark eyes to see him appear from the half landing down to floor level. Hoss was yawning, rubbing his head with one hand and scratching his chest with the other, upon seeing his father observing him he stopped halfway across the room and frowned, blinked, and shook his head “You ain’t abed yet, Pa?”

“Obviously not, son.” Ben replied with an indulgent smile and watched as Hoss came and sat down on the arm of the settee.

“How come? Aint’cha tired out after all that thar dancing around you did today?”

“No, should I be?”

“Well, Pa, you ain’t -” Hoss paused, even half asleep he was aware that he was about to utter a remark that his august father would not have appreciated, “You should get some sleep, Pa, we’ve a busy day ahead tomorrow, I mean, later today.”

“Hoss, I’m not senile, I do know the way to my own bedroom, and I do know when I’m tired and need some sleep.” Ben growled causing Hoss to wince with the awareness that tact had arrived too late and that Ben’s feelings had been ’ruffled’. “Now then, why are you up so early?”

“Huh? Oh, I jest wanted a drink.” Hoss replied nonchalantly and scratched his chest and then under one arm pit as he turned to stare into the fire, “It all went off pretty well, didn’t it?”

“It did. I think Paul was surprised at just how many people came to see them get married. All credit to him, he and Bridie make a lovely couple.” and if there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice it was lost on Hoss. Not that Ben intended any such thing in regards to his dear friend the doctor, just that he knew some did not ’approve’.

“Miz Rachel sure danced a lot with you, Pa. I thought for a while you were going to find yourself hog tied.”

“Not to Mrs Brandon, Hoss. If that were to happen then you can certainly start thinking I’m senile.” Ben laughed quietly, “She’s worse than Clementine Hawkins ever was.”

“Shucks, yeah … remember how she used to chase after you, Pa?” Hoss leaned forward and chuckled his warm laugh, his blue eyes twinkled, “That time she bought that thar emerald, and all the fuss that caused.”

“Yes, I remember it well.” Ben smiled and puffed a perfect smoke ring

“And how Adam said he would put ’Arry’s pink pantaloons over the chimney and kept talking like he was a London Cockney himself?”

“Drove us all mad -” Ben murmured with a sigh as the memory itself caused pleasant thoughts to trickle through his mind.

“Widow Hawkins sure don’t seem so keen on you now, does she, Pa?” Hoss frowned as though puzzled that the redoubtable widow would have ‘given up’ on such a catch as his Pa.

“Widow Hawkins is that much older and I’m afraid feels herself upstaged by Mrs Brandon.” Ben said with all the authority of the best Agony Aunt in town, but he had been told this by Hester who seemed to know all about that ‘kind of thing.’

“Did you hear that Clem was thinking of resigning as sheriff?”

“I did. It’s a shame but he doesn’t feel healthy enough for the responsibility.” Ben leaned forward and tapped the bowl of his pipe against the hearth so that the tobacco drifted out to join the flames of the fire.

“Dodds isn’t competent enough for the job.” Hoss sucked on his teeth, his lips puckering as a result, “And I know for sure that Roy ain’t interested in re-applying.”

“No.” Ben sighed and nodded before slowly preparing to clean out his pipe, unscrewing the bowl from the stem “No, he said he didn’t like retirement as much as he had thought he would but he was too old to take up reins of office again.”

“Who’d you reckon on doing the job?” Hoss asked as he rose to his feet and stretched his arms out wide as he waited for his father to reply
,
“I don’t know, son. Are you thinking of applying?” Ben looked up, his dark eyes twinkling as Hoss wrinkled his nose and shook his head. 

“Nope.” Hoss grinned “I got enough on my hands keeping this family in order. That includes you, Pa.” he furrowed his brow in mock irritation “You should get yourself off to bed right now.”

“While you raid the larder, huh?” Ben raised a dark eyebrow and continued with his pipe cleaning as Hoss ambled his way to the kitchen. He heard the glug of something being poured into a glass and then the sound of doors opening and closing, crockery rattling. With a smile he reconnected the pieces of his pipe and stacked it upon the rack with the others.

When Hoss finally left the kitchen wiping a smear of apple pie from his face it was to see his father settling the fire down for the remainder of the night, a prelude to his going to bed at last. “G’night, Pa.”

“Sleep well, son.”

Ben listened to Hoss’ footsteps and paused in his activity as he thought over their conversation, over the wedding of Paul and Bridie O’Flannery that had gone off with such success. As he got to his feet and straightened his back Ben pondered over the emotion his friend had shown at seeing so many in attendance for the ceremony, as though he had never realised that so many had loved him for so long. Ben sighed and wiped his hands free from the ash and dust, well, it was good for it had been well deserved, there had never been a more loyal friend and doctor as Paul Martin. Bridie had been a beautiful bride too, blushing and proud and with an air of disbelief that such a joy could have happened to her. To make her joy more complete her children and their families had made their way to attend this, her most special day.

Yes, a success all round, Ben agreed to himself, no couple could have looked happier or prouder. With a sigh of contentment he turned and made his way up the stairs to his room.

At the sound of the door closing Hester sighed with relief and turned to her husband, “Your father never seems to sleep nowadays. He’ll wear himself out if he carries on like this.”

“Pa knows what he’s doing,” Hoss whispered back, “He ain’t in his dotage you know?”

Hester smiled and wondered if Hoss really knew what the word meant, but she leaned forward and kissed him anyway. “I know, sweetheart, but I do worry about him, he isn’t getting any younger after all.”

“Honeybun,” Hoss whispered back “None of us is getting any younger, so, unless you want to continue this conversation you had better turn yourself round and get yourself to sleep.”

She laughed quietly and put her arms around his neck in order to draw him closer to her, then she settled her russet coloured head upon his shoulder “I love you, you do know that, don’t you, Mr Cartwright.”

“Shucks, so you should, seeing as how you have two children now, Mrs Cartwright.” and he smiled as she nuzzled his face close to hers and kissed him again.
………………….

Mary Ann Cartwright slipped quietly from the bed and slipped her feet into her slippers as she reached for her dressing gown. Tying the belt as she walked quickly to the room across the landing from theirs she pushed open the door and stood for a moment before stepping further inside. The child in the cot immediately scrabbled to his feet and held out his arms to her with wiggling fingers as though to entice her to pick him up. Not that she needed much enticing for she loved to cuddle her little boy and smell the warmth of his body and feel the curly hair tickle her nose “Can’t you sleep, little boy?” she whispered and held him close.

“Momma, Momma.” Daniel sighed contentedly and wrapped chubby arms around her neck, if he could have put his feelings into words he would have said something along the lines of ‘How great is this, and I didn’t even have to cry very loud or for very long.’

She carried him to the window and drew back the curtain to look down over the dark shadows of what lay beyond … the vague outline of the corral and stables, further afield the darker background of high mountains and above them the purple blue of the night sky pin pricked with diamonds as the stars twinkled down on them. She began to sing, very softly ‘Twinkle, twinkle little star ..’ while she swayed slightly too and fro with the infant in her arms.

From the doorway Joseph Cartwright observed his wife and son with an ache in his heart. The ache came from the emotion he felt whenever he caught her unawares like this, her slender form, the thick curls of her hair loose down upon her shoulders and the baby clinging to her. He sighed deeply and walked quietly towards them until he was at their side and had his arm around them both “I didn’t hear him crying, I’d have woken up sooner if I had realised.” he whispered as he leaned forward and kissed her brow.

“Oh, he didn’t really cry much at all, I was awake anyway.” she smiled up at him, her dear Joseph and raised her face for another kiss. Daniel’s dimpled hand reached up to catch at his father’s mouth so that Joe laughed and played with his sons’ fingers while he kissed his wife.

“Can’t you sleep?” he asked as they stood side by side framed by the window.

“No, I keep thinking over today, and how lovely it all was, Paul was so surprised at seeing so many there, wasn’t he?”

“So was Bridie.” Joe laughed softly as he noticed the way Daniel had settled his head upon Mary Ann’s shoulder.

“Oh yes, she did.” Mary Ann nodded and turned to look at the stars before turning to look at Joe, “I’ll miss her, I mean, not what she did to help me around the house, I mean that I will really miss her, as my friend and - well - like my mother.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” he rubbed her arm soothingly and sighed on her behalf.

“I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone so warm, so kind … she was everything a mother should be, wasn’t she?”

“I guess so.” Joe replied with his head resting close to her head and thinking of someone else entirely, someone who haunted his memories like a ghost drifting in and out of his life with just as much substance but someone who was nothing like Bridie at all.

Daniel gave a little snort, a snore of contentment and the fond parents shared a smile and walked together to the cot into which Mary Ann placed him. “Goodnight, little man.” she whispered and blew him a kiss from the doorway.

 

Chapter 2

It was difficult to see where the shadows began and where they ended as Olivia Cartwright stepped onto the porch. She could hear the sounds of the horses in the corral to the left of her, but the night was dark enough to envelop all before her into one large unlit bubble. It was only after a few moments had passed that her eyes adjusted well enough to discern the shapes of the stables and barn that were ahead and to the right of the house.

She pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders and stepped out until the railings that ran around the porch prevented her from going any further. But it was sufficient, she had no desire to step beyond these perimeters and leaned against the barrier just enough to reassure herself of the wooden presence.

The night sky enshrouded everything in that mystery of darkness that made a person feel utterly alone. She stared up at the vastness above her head and closed her eyes to prove that it was no darker then that it had been when her eyes had been open. A slight smile played around her well shaped lips as she slowly raised her eyelids to look up at the stars. So small, so infinitesimal did she feel as she stood there, it was even possible to pretend that the main Ponderosa house as well as the home of Joe and Mary Ann did not exist. 

There were the sounds though … the horses pushing against the corral fence, their snorts and their breathing was loud enough for her to hear. There were the lesser sounds too of little animals scurrying along their secret passages, the flapping of the owls wings as he vacated the barn to hunt for prey.

She drew in her breath and slowly exhaled, smiled again and drew the shawl tighter. This was home, and she loved it. She ran a hand gently over the wooden railing and remembered how her husband had carefully smoothed it down, insisting that he didn’t want her hand to encounter any splinter due to his carelessness. Everything there reminded her of him, everything… even the smells borne upon the night air, even the emptiness around her.

She stayed for some moments leaning against the railings before the chill of the night, and the fact that time was ticking away into a new morning that she turned and re-entered the house, closing the door firmly behind her.

It took her little time to mount the stairs and cautiously look into the room where her eldest son slept. Reuben with his tumble of bed covers which she stooped down to pick up and put over him. He sighed in his sleep and she wondered if he were dreaming, and if so, of what it was he dreamt about… perhaps of school, perhaps of ships that sailed on black glassy seas at night. She leaned down and kissed his brow, brushed back some hair and tip toed quietly away.

Sofia was curled up into a tight ball with the covers over her head which she clutched at even in her sleep to prevent her mother from pulling them away. Blonde curls scattered over the pillowcase, tendrils of hair damp enough to stick to her cheeks and Olivia gently pulled back the covers so that some air could brush against the child’s skin.

“Mommy?” and a small hand reached out to catch hold of the woman’s hand, “Mommy, I got tummy ache.”

“You ate too much cake.” Olivia said with a smile in her voice and the child yawned and slipped instantly back into sleep.

Olivia closed the door and made her way to her room, the room she shared with her husband and infant son. Standing now in the doorway she gazed about her, looked at the lamps that were flickering on the dressing table and the chest of drawers before she turned to wards the little crib close to her side of the bed.

The infant didn’t move, it seemed as though he were not even breathing so still was the little body. Black hair curled about an oval face, eyes were closed tight so that long lashes brushed against his cheek. She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, leaned forward and stared at him, this little bundle of joy that had survived the loss of its twin and had arrived so perfect and so safely. As though aware of her presence the infant stirred, opened its eyes and blinked into the metal grey of its existence, turned his face and recognised the oval of her own face looking down at him. 

He wasn’t hungry, he wasn’t in need of a diaper change, he didn’t even want to be taken from the warmth of his little cocoon of a crib. He just yawned, turned his face away and closed his eyes again. Even when she gently caressed his cheek with her finger he didn’t stir, and she sighed as though regretting the loss of a precious few moments of cuddling the little body against her own. 

It was hard to sleep when Adam was away from home. Hard to settle her mind to laying in bed and spending the hours just sleeping. She slipped into the bed and settled down upon the pillows, closed her eyes and snatched back memories of the day. Dear Paul, dear Bridie. She remembered how Ben had danced with Rachel Brandon and Hester had whispered something to the effect that if Rachel moved into the Ponderosa then she, Hester, would have to move out. They had laughed a little at that, but there had been no denying the determined look on the widows face every time the music struck up and Ben appeared to be standing alone.

She drifted into sleep thinking about Clementine Hawkins, for some reason she felt a sadness for the little widow that she never had felt before, as though attending that wedding without her husband had placed her on a par with the older woman. She sighed again, poor Clemmie she thought, poor Clemmie.

………………

In his cabin Adam Cartwright put down the papers he had been reading and leaned back against the chair in which he was seated. The cabin was in near darkness, only the lamp on his desk had provided enough light to facilitate reading. He rubbed his face with long fingers and then stared down one again at the papers on the desk

It had been a strange meeting with Hamilton Fish some weeks earlier. No doubt he would have vacated his office now and his successor, William Evarts would have taken on the role of Secretary of State. Both men had been present when Adam Cartwright had presented himself at the office, in compliance to his orders, and both men had accorded him the respect due his rank. He had looked from one to the other and wondered which of the two would be spokesman, the one about to resign his post or the one about to take it upon his own shoulders.

“It’s good to see you again, Commodore.” Fish smiled, his craggy face under the mass of greying hair looked familiar and comfortable with the other man who now sat down at the chair indicated to him, “Did you have a pleasant journey?”

“Uneventful, yes, thank you.” Adam replied and glanced sideways to observe Evarts who was seated and looking at the officer with a thoughtful look in his eyes. It occurred to Adam that Mr Evarts was no doubt wondering if he, Adam Cartwright, were up to the task of whatever it was they were going to assign him.

“Times change, Adam.” Hamilton Fish said, and sounded surprised at the fact that he had actually used the Officers first name, “As you must realise I am soon to retire from my duties here, and Mr Evarts will be assuming the role.”

Both Evarts and Adam nodded compliance, after all, the news was not unknown to either of them and if Evarts hadn’t known by then it didn’t say much for the administration he was about to take on.

Evarts stood up now and passed an envelope over to Adam “These are your orders, Captain.” he noticed the lift of a dark eyebrow and his lips twitched slightly, “As you will not be taking charge of the customary three ships as per your rank, you will now be referred to as Captain. The ship you will be taking over is not unknown to you, however, I think you will be pleased with it.”

Adam nodded and felt that he’d be the judge of that, he didn’t need anyone who sat behind a desk all day to tell him what he would or would not be pleased with, he cleared his throat and looked at them both. Neither man now seemed sure who was to speak first but finally Fish gave a curt nod and began “Your orders are quite specific, Adam. They require you to locate a party of men who have been missing for some months. It is imperative that they are found and returned safely to …”

“… Washington.” Evarts said, tapping the envelope authoritively, “The men were involved in a search and find operation for diamonds in the - huh hum - Brazilian forests.”

“Heading towards the Bolivian borders.” Fish interjected, “We lost contact with them some while back and its imperative that they are located and returned here. The information they have is essential.”

Adam nodded, he looked from one to the other, and picked up the envelope. He looked at his name scrawled in black ink upon its virginal whiteness and pursed his lips slightly, “What if I can’t find them?”

“I suggest you do,” Evarts said, “as soon as you can.”

“It may be that they’re dead by now. Diamonds -” Adam paused, “well, a lot can happen to a man who possesses too many of such a commodity.”

“There are, to be exact, three men involved in this expedition. The details are in the envelope.” Evarts said and looked at Fish as though to imply that no other information was necessary nor should be forthcoming.

Hamilton Fish gave a slight smile, he rose to his feet and extended his hand “Thank you, Commodore, I really appreciate all that you have done to serve President Grants administration over the years. I hope this - this particular assignment - goes well for you.”

Adam shook the proffered hand and slipped the envelope inside his jacket, he nodded towards Evarts who was standing away from the desk and didn’t indicate that he wanted to shake anyone’s hand, so Adam nodded again, saluted and left the room.

The sound of his heels on the marble floor sounded hollow in his ears and he had clenched his teeth so tightly that his jaw ached by the time he had left the building. 

……..

Roy Coffee swung his feet over the side of his bed and set them firmly on the floorboards. He scratched his chin through bristles and then rubbed his head, lamenting the fact, as he did every day, that he was now quite bald. 

He yawned, stretched and stumbled away from the bed to approach the bedroom window and after pulling aside the curtains glared down at the main street of town. It was still dark, and he reckoned on it being close to two o’clock in the morning. He shook his head and sighed as he made his way to the bureau where a lamp still had a small flame flickering behind its funnel, he turned it up in order to bring more light into the room. 

For some moments he just sat on the side of the bed staring at the flame while he gathered his thoughts together, his hands resting on his knees and his eyes half closed. He couldn’t see that clearly, couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror that stood beside the lamp but then he knew what he would see, he didn’t really have to look. Since Rachel had taken up residence with him a year ago he had somehow collected two more chins, lost several more teeth - thankfully all at the back not that appearances mattered that much to him - and widened in girth. He didn’t like being an old man, there was no pleasure in being retired, especially with Rachel living with him.

He sighed again as he remembered the celebrations of his dear friends wedding only the previous day. Rachel had been in her element, totally eclipsing Widow Hawkins in the way she flaunted herself after Ben Cartwright. Did she really expect there to be another wedding this year? Herself as the bride? Pshchew, not if Ben Cartwright had any sense left in his head.

But then, Roy sighed again, Paul had never looked happier as he had with Bridget O’Flannery by his side. They were a good team, Roy told himself, they worked well together and no doubt they would play well together too. That clinic of Bridie’s was doing well, and Paul had told him only the day before the wedding that the number of winter and spring illnesses in the poorer quarters of town were lower than they had ever been. There had been fewer infant deaths and mothers were surviving the births of healthier babies. 

Roy scratched his head again and coughed good and hard to clear his lungs. Rachel had kept him awake a whole hour after returning home, first gossiping about this and that, then after retiring to bed she had sang in her shrill voice that gave him headaches .. .. What woman would sing hymns past midnight after going to a wedding?? It was beyond Roy and he wondered what he could do, short of murder, to get rid of his sister from his home.

He had even considered going back to work but that had not worked out well. Clem had even asked him recently to stop going to the office because it was confusing people as to who really was the sheriff. Now here was Clem saying he was giving up the job anyway. Roy scowled down at the floor and knew that it was useless applying, he was too old. He had been too old years ago when Adam Cartwright had come to ‘tidy things up’ and keep him company while the town council had dithered about sacking him. That was a long time ago now, Roy smiled slowly, yes, that had been before Adam had that crazy notion of going to sea. Now why on earth did he go and do a tomfool thing like that for?

The old man got to his feet and poured out a glass of water, he was about to drink it when he realised that if he did then he would have to empty his bladder within the hour and he didn’t really fancy a trip to the outhouse. He put the glass down and returned to his bed, it was still warm from earlier occupancy.

He remembered asking Adam why he had chosen to go to sea and the eldest son of Ben Cartwright had smiled, shrugged and admitted that it had seemed a good idea at the time. He just hadn’t thought out the long term complications, like getting married and having children. Things had happened in his life and he had convinced himself that he would never find a woman to love enough, and when he had, well, it was too late to change things although he had tried.

But, Roy had said, think of all the wonderful places you had been to, and seen. The lands no one else had, himself included. Roy yawned now, and closed his eyes, he remembered how Adam had looked at him and smiled that odd poignant smile of his and said that the most lovely sight in the world was the one that greeted his eyes every morning when he woke up and looked upon the face of the woman he had married. Roy sighed as he slowly drifted back into sleep, he could understand that too well, it had been something he had once enjoyed too, long ago when his Mary had slept by his side.

Chapter 3

Adam Cartwright put aside his consideration of his meeting with the new and the old Secretaries of State, deciding that to dwell on it any further was unnecessary to what was now impending. He glanced at the book he had been reading and pushed it casually to one side having reached the conclusion that it had been of little benefit or help to him at this juncture of the assignment.

Reading about another person’s assumptions and preoccupations of a country about which Adam knew a miniscule amount of information could, at times, be irritating and at other times, frustrating. It confirmed to him that he was quite ill prepared for this particular assignment and apart from the details laboriously typed out by some stenographer in Fish’s labyrinth of offices there was little to really encourage him to think positively about it.

An expedition of a kind had been sent out to find some fabled diamond mine was the thrust of the first five paragraphs of the narrative. Adam had never known of diamonds being found in the swamps of Brazil but then, as he had told himself he knew little about the place so it was better not to prejudge. The men involved in fronting the expedition were an American, Howard Jefferson; a Russian Anatoly Sokolovich; an Englishman Michael Scolley. Each had been financed by their Governments which led Adam to conclude that all concerned truly believed that this diamond mine was going to be a sound economic investment. 

He had scowled at the reference to a Russian involvement and wondered how Gorchakov had raked up the money to finance such an expedition considering his already considerable expenditure on wars and such, but then Russia was a vast country, a forever black cloud spreading over the eastern continent and swallowing up minor lands with impunity. No need to worry about one’s own treasury when one can plunder those of other Governments.

So the Shenandoah was sailing into the southern hemisphere, down to Brazil. A place where mosquitoes swarmed in lethal colonies, alligators and insects, snakes and jaguars, Indians with poison darts and the ability to move like ghosts and the only positive that Adam could find from it was that he wouldn’t be cold, wouldn’t freeze, and had a variety of methods by which he could be killed.

He listlessly picked up the papers on the desk and began to read through the information so that he would know from memory everything that was necessary should any details be required at another time. The three men had commenced their expedition 18 months previously, each with their own guides - all native to the country - and their various porters, servants, cooks and scullions. In effect fifty men had entered the swamps of the Pantanal and during the course of time only a few stragglers had returned to the hotel at various odd times, rather like human flotsam and jetsam that the tide would wash in as and when it suited.

There followed a description and brief history of each man, the names of their respective guides and contact names within the Government department that had merrily sent them on their way.

Next came a description of the Pantanol itself which didn’t leave Adam enamoured of the place, basically because it was still largely unexplored terrain and a lot of information was based on assumptions based on information given over the years by various so-called explorers, some of which had never been seen again when foolhardy enough to re-enter the place. The place was huge, hundreds of thousands of square miles of swamp with the River Paraguay its main tributary but with hundreds of lesser rivers, streams, lakes, swamps diverging from it and all of them, from what Adam could read, full of snakes and alligators and other death dealing creatures intent on destroying any intruder.

There were several tribes of Indians living within the Pantanol, some yet to be discovered, some reluctantly already located and quick to disappear as soon as possible into the swamplands again. They were primitive, superstitious, and prepared to kill anyone who survived the alligators, snakes etc etc. It made Adam’s head ache to consider the pile of negatives that seeped from every page of the neatly typed out script.

There was appended some cautionary notes about health, and advice on learning the language that most Brazilians spoke, which was Portuguese. To assist a dictionary and phrase book had been included. 

He released a deep sigh and pushed everything away as though by doing so he could blot out the fact that he was on an assignment that seemed to lead nowhere. He got to his feet and walked to the port hole of his cabin and then without looking out turned to pick up a decanter of whiskey from which he poured himself an ample amount. Carrying it in one hand, and the Portuguese phrase book in the other he returned to a more comfortable chair and set himself down.

An abrupt knock on the door which was pushed open to admit Adam’s steward. Douglas Ames was middle aged and had served many officers on board numerous ships. He had heard of Adams reputation via the usual sources and had been looking forward to the privilege of someone with such a history. He was an intelligent man and kept himself aloof from the men which suited both them and himself, as the crew could then feel confident that no tales were being carried to the Captain, he would not be considered the first officer’s spy. He did, however, tend to interfere a little with the cook who found him rather irritating and ingratiating, but as he said, if he was serving the best, then the best deserved ‘the best’. To that, the cook had no answer, which also annoyed him.

The meal that was served before Adam now was done with a politeness that the Captain preferred, Ames was proving himself a worthy successor to the likes of Abbott whom Adam considered to have been the epitome of the perfect valet/butler/steward. He thanked Ames with a nod of the head, set the glass of whiskey to one side and began to eat. Ames busied himself around the cabin unobtrusively until there was nothing more to do except wait for the meal to be finished upon which he removed the remains and left the room.

Adam listened to the footsteps as they retreated down the passageway and then picked up his glass. As often happened at such times he found his mind returning to those he loved back home, to Olivia and the children, to his father and brothers, their wives and children. A vague smile drifted over his face as he counted them one by one and reminded himself that at one time who would have thought the Cartwrights would have grown to such a size so quickly. He shook his head and chided himself, after all, it was hardly a case of dozens of offspring, and that led him to think of his very own infant son.

It had always been hard to leave Olivia, for any reason it was difficult. He didn’t even now want to dwell upon the likeness of her face, the laughter and the love because it made him ache with longing for her. He knew that among his crew there were men feeling the same emotions, but that was, although a reassurance of a kind, it was no comfort in knowing. The children - Reuben, Sofia and Nathaniel - his heart tightened at the thought of them, that last farewell with Sofia crying and clinging to him, begging him not to go, Reuben being so brave but holding onto him tightly and then the baby, sleeping contentedly, blissfully unaware as weeks old babies should be. He had stroked back the dark hair with one finger, smiled at Olivia who held the baby close in her arms, and then leaned across the infant to kiss her.

The memory of that kiss made his throat tighten and he shook it off quickly, swallowed some whiskey and glared at the bookshelf on the other side of the cabin. One comfort, he told himself as he swallowed down t he whiskey, was that he was on a familiar boat, the Doctor was an old friend of his, and it wouldn’t be long before his contract would be at an end. They may not have accepted his voluntary resignations over the past few years, but they couldn’t retain him beyond the contracted time of his service. That, he drained the glass, was very reassuring.

He stood up and picked up his jacket, shrugged himself into it and left the cabin to make his way to the upper deck.

……………

Bridget O’Flannery Martin stood beside her husband and watched as her daughters, their husbands, their children, entered the train carriage that was to bear them back to their various homes. She clung tightly to Paul’s arm, hardly daring to believe that this dear man was now part of her life, a very, very important and dear part. His hand immediately came and rested upon hers, as though reassuring her that from now on they would always be together, in happy as well as sad times. This moment in time was, to Bridie’s way of thinking, like a bridge between two parts of her life, the past and the future.

As she raised a hand to wave her family goodbye it occurred to her that no matter how much she loved them, all of them, it now no longer mattered that they were so far away from her. They belonged to some other Bridget O’Flannery, one who had never assumed to be more than someone else’s cook, someone else’ servant. The Bridget O’Flannery that was now, was a wife, someone loved and cherished, someone who had a responsibility not to a mere person, or household, but to a community. Her heart swelled with the thought and she looked, rather shyly, at the man standing by her side.

Paul Martin was at that time looking down at her, and as t heir eyes met, they smiled at one another. The vows they had exchanged the previous day lingered in their minds, and he nodded at her as though acknowledging that he knew what she was thinking. The train chugged away, there were cries of ‘Goodbye, mother’ drifting from the vehicle amid the grit laden smoke and she found herself waving frantically even though she did wonder if they could see her.

Paul watched her and smiled at the thought that this woman had come into his life, so different from his first wife, so strong in so many ways, so frail in so many other. He loved her for all she had brought to him, and as she turned, a smile on her face, a tear in her eye (although she said it was grit) he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Shall we go and have something to drink at Del Monico’s?”

“That would be very welcome, how did you guess that I was going to suggest that?” she said and hugged his arm against her waist as though she didn’t want to release him.

“I shall have to go and check on Mrs Pearson afterwards, my dear.” he sighed, and stared ahead of him as though he were about to commit some arduous crime.

“Do you need company?” she peered up at him, a difficult procedure as the brim of her new bonnet prevented a good view of his face.

“Your company, my dear, is always welcome.”

They smiled at one another, confident that no matter what happened from now on, they would have the love and confidence of knowing that together they could conquer anything.

Chapter 4

Hester Cartwright was carrying a basket of eggs to the house with Hannah by her side when the sound of a horse entering the yard caught her attention. Pausing for a moment to glance back she was more than pleased to see Candy approaching. He tipped his hat and grinned “Morning, Hester. Is Ben at home?”

“He is, Candy. Have you had breakfast?”

“I have, thanks.” he dismounted and led the horse to the rail where he looped the reins, he gave the animal a pat on the neck as he walked past it to reach Hester’s side, “Does Hop Sing have any of his coffee still hot?”

“He does indeed.” she replied and stepped back to allow him space in order for them to reach the house together, Hannah was skipping ahead with her dark head shining in the early morning sunshine.

Candy removed his hat and allowed Hester to precede him into the house, following close behind so that when Ben looked up to speak to his daughter in law he was surprised to see Candy so close by, he nodded a greeting “You’re early this morning, Candy. Had breakfast?”

“Yes, sir, I have.” he glanced around him and nodded over at Hoss who had Hope on his knee and was feeding her gruel. “How’re you doing, Hoss?”

“Fine, Candy, jest fine.” Hoss grinned, “Up with the birds huh?”

“Sure thing, I wanted to talk over something with you and your Pa.”

Hoss glanced over at his father who rose from the table, wiped his mouth on his napkin and once again nodded his head, “Well, Candy,” Ben said, “Why not pour yourself some coffee and come join us in the study.”

Hester immediately picked up the coffee pot and poured the coffee for Candy, smiling at him as she handed it over. At the same time she tried to catch her husband’s eye in an attempt to convey the question ‘What’s wrong?’

Hope was placed carefully back into her high chair and left to manage her gruel on her own while Hester went into the kitchen to give Hop Sing the freshly laid eggs. Hannah went with her, helping to take one egg at a time from the basket to place into Hop Sing’s big blue and white striped bowl.

“Well now,” Ben settled down into his large leather chair and surveyed the younger man thoughtfully, “What’s the problem?”

“It’s not really a problem,” Candy said as he took a seat opposite the rancher but the look on his face belied the statement for the blue eyes were shaded and the lips lacked their customary grin, “Well, it may be a problem” he amended quickly.

“How come? Best spit it out prompt,” Hoss muttered as he leaned against the bookcase with his arms folded across his chest, “We got trouble with rustlers down your way?”

“No, nothing like that,” Candy replied looking sharply over at the big man in an anxious blue gaze, “No, it’s something more personal.”

“You need a loan?” Hoss guessed, “You in any kind of trouble, Candy?”

Candy cleared his throat, ran a finger around the collar of his shirt and shook his head “No, just that it’s difficult for me to say what I cum to say, that’s all.”

Ben smiled thoughtfully and nodded slowly, anticipating what was to come but being careful not to pre-empt a decision by being too quick to assume he was right, he now cleared his throat and said quietly “Well, as Hoss said just now, Candy, best spit it out and get it over with.”

“It’s hard for me to say -” Candy stammered and bit down on his bottom lip.

“Then just say it and leave us to deal with what happens after.” Ben smiled, the dark eyes warmed with feeling for this younger man who had become such a friend of theirs over the years.

“I’ve applied for the job as sheriff, to replace Clem.” Candy said immediately, and then looked from one to the other of them for their reaction.

For a moment there was nothing said or done, both Cartwrights seemed to absorb what was said and - nothing. Then Hoss blinked “Temporary, kinda? While they find someone more permanent?”

“No, not temporary. I’ve applied for the position.”

“Have you been accepted?” Ben asked kindly, his head to one side and his expression thoughtful.

“I - er - get sworn in at the end of the week.” Candy replied in a rather subdued voice, “You see, Ann and I have thought for a while about moving into town and when Clem mentioned about wanting to retire, it just seemed the perfect time and place. We can move into the house he’s vacating, it’s just big enough for us, and the pay’s good too. It means that -” he drew in his breath and released it slowly “Ann feels happier being in a town and since that time I got shot last year, she was so afraid I’d die that she wanted me to leave here then.”

“You can get shot being a sheriff, Candy.” Hoss replied evenly while he tried to come to terms with the fact that one of his best friends would be leaving them.

“I know, but a doctor would be close to hand wouldn’t they?” Candy swallowed embarrassment, and grimaced “The thing is, Ann reckons that it was because there was no doctor available soon enough that caused me to nearly die. It frightened her badly. Until then she was happy being on the homestead and for me working along with you here on the Ponderosa, but now that she’s - er - well - she’d like to feel safer in town with the next baby coming along.”

Ben and Hoss looked at one another, Ben raised his eyebrows and Hoss looked down on the floor “Congratulations, Candy.” Hoss muttered “Number 3, huh?”

Candy nodded and managed to smile slightly, “We’re not leaving the homestead entirely. I’ve arranged for a young couple to rent it out for us on a long term lease. Then, later, we can move back.”

Ben scratched the back of his neck “Seems like you covered every contingency, Candy.”

“I know you may think I should have come to talk to you about this beforehand, sir. The fact is, I knew that if I had done then I would never have managed to go through with it. I love working here on the Ponderosa with you all, you, sir, have been like a father to me, and I know that you’d have talked me round to staying as easy as winking.”

“I wouldn’t have tried to change your mind if it was made up, Candy.” Ben said in an even tone of voice, “You’re free to make your own decisions, always have been, you should know that.”

“Fact is, I hadn’t made my mind up about it until they told me last night. Ann was so happy about it, and it seemed - well - it seemed as though that was it really. I owe you all so much and -”

“That’s alright, Candy,” Ben said abruptly sensing the man’s embarrassment and feeling awkward about the whole thing himself, “We’ll miss you, being here I mean. But it’s good to know that the town will have such a good and competent man as their lawman. I hope it all goes well for you.” 

“Yeah, that goes for me too.” Hoss replied and struck out his hand to shake Candy’s warmly.

A noise from the door caused them all to pause and turn to wait the arrival of Joe Cartwright who came in with a grin on his face “Say, someone’s eager to start work this morning. Hi Candy..” he stopped, glanced from one to the other and frowned “Anything wrong?”

Ben smiled and looked over at Candy then at his son “Candy’s leaving the Ponderosa, he’s taken the position as sheriff of Virginia City, so you had best behave yourself when you go into town in future, Joe.”

“Hey, my trouble making days are long over,” Joe laughed and shook Candys hand warmly, “Our loss will be their gain, Candy. How does Ann feel about this?”

“She’s happy to be moving into town, Joe.” Candy replied with a rather sheepish grin on his face, “She wants to be settled in before she has the baby.”

“The baby? Oh -” Joe raised his eyebrows, white teeth flashed in the tan of his skin as he smiled a wide smile “Well, congratulations.” 

They shook hands again and stood there grinning at one another until Ben said “Well, for the time being, gentlemen, shall we get on with some work?”

………….

Hester looked at her cousin and watched as Ann carefully wrapped some plates in paper and laid them into a wicker basket, then with a sigh she picked up another and began to wrap it in paper before handing it to the other woman “I wish you had told me, Ann.”

“Candy asked me not to, Hester.” 

“But you could have hinted, after all, we are cousins.”

Ann sighed and took the paper wrapped plate from Hester and placed it with the others, “I didn’t want to, in case it all went wrong. We’ve shared so much together, haven’t we? I know you must have felt rather angry with me -”

“Oh no, I wasn’t angry, just - kind of sad.” Hester sighed and bowed her head, her hands gripped the handles of a jug so tightly that they were in danger of being pulled off, “You’ll be so far away.”

“It’ll make it even better then when you get to visit.” Ann smiled and took the jug away before it was broken, “We can still have our weekly quilting mornings, we’ll just make them afternoons instead.” she smiled brightly “It means Olivia can collect Reuben from school that day instead of him having to come with Hank.”

“He’ll miss going in with Rosie.” Hester smiled and glanced over to where Hannah was playing spin the top with her cousin, David. Hope was chewing on a coloured brick and dampening her front with drool as a result.

“It won’t be long before Sofia will be going to school. Does Olivia know yet?”

“I’ve not told her.” Hester admitted, “Actually I’ve not seen her for a few days.”

“She is alright, isn’t she?”

Hester slowly wrapped some cups in newspaper and nodded although her face looked concerned “She’s missing Adam. I guess that’s to be expected really, isn’t it?”

Ann nodded “That’s another reason why I wanted Candy to get this position, Hester. I can’t handle it when he’s away on those long cattle drives and with the baby on its way … it just makes me feel so much safer knowing he’ll always be close by, and that there’s a doctor available should anything go wrong. I don’t think I shall ever forgot that time when Rosie was born. It was horrible, Hester, you know it was….”

Hester nodded, reached out to touch her cousin’s arm in a consoling manner. Of course it was horrible, she had been there at the time, hadn’t she? She knew how bad it had been for Ann, such a hard difficult delivery and with only herself and Victoria there to assist her. She pushed a wisp of golden red hair behind her ear and looked again at the children playing together, so innocent and so unaware of the heart aches and troubles that were lingering in the future shadows to fall upon them. “I know, I understand, Ann.”

“And it means I can help in the clinic with Bridie for a while, without that long trip into town all the time.”

“Of course. Bridie will be happy to have you there to help.” 

“I was never cut out to be a rancher’s wife, Hester.” she placed another well wrapped plate into the basket and stared down at the packed crockery as though to check whether or not there was room for any more “It’s not the same for you, at the Ponderosa. You seem to have settled into the life so well, so happily. I never felt that contentment … that certainty of belonging to that kind of life.”

Hester said nothing but brushed her hands over the apron that covered her skirts. She just knew that wherever Hoss was, well, that was where she wanted to be, there were lonelier places, there were harder tasks, but Hoss belonged to the Ponderosa, and so, therefore, did she. 

Chapter 5

When Olivia was told about Candy’s appointment as sheriff to Virginia City she expressed how much she respected his decision, particularly as it was something that made his wife happy. It rather concerned Hester who wondered if her dear friends comment was a hint of how she felt about her own husband leaving her alone for who knew how long to go to who knew where. She fretted over it for a while and spoke of her anxiety to Hoss who shrugged and sighed, “Honey,” he grumbled good naturedly, “I’m a mere man, how’m I expected to understand how a woman thinks about something like that … I reckon on her missing Adam, like we all do, shucks, that’s pure natcheral ain’t it?”

It was not the reassurance that Hester was looking for and she continued to worry about it for a few days until finally deciding it was time to find out for sure and the only way to do that was to ask Olivia herself.

The sound of a buggy driving into the yard could be heard through the open door to the buttery where Olivia and Sofia were putting the final touches to the little butter pats that would be safely tucked away in a cool place. Sofia was very proud of the way her mother allowed her the task of stamping each bit of butter with the rose mould, she would stand very patiently waiting until Olivia had patted and shaped the butter with the wooden paddle and then step back for Sofia to press down the mould. 

The morning had dawned bright and warm, sunlight streamed through the open door to the buttery which had enabled Olivia to hear the buggy arriving. Pulling off her apron and wiping her hands free from grease as she did so Olivia walked to the door, draped the apron over a hook and stepped into the sunlight.

Hester was clambering down, the sun shining on her golden red hair was a sight that would have made her husband sigh with longing for her and Olivia had to stop herself thinking what would happen if Hester suddenly woke up bald. That and the pure deep sapphire blue of her eyes were Hester’s main claim to beauty, but then she never claimed to be anything of the kind, and Hoss recognised that his wife’s beauty came from within, for she was caring, honest, strong willed and adored him… what more could a man wish for in a wife?

“I thought I would come to see how you were getting on, Olivia.” Hester said as she leaned down to pick Hope up and straddle her on her hip, “I’ve not seen you for a few days and was worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” Olivia smiled with slight bemusement, “My dear, you’ve no need to worry about me. You’ve enough to do with helping Ann move into town and everything. I should have been more helpful but with Nathaniel -.” she paused, her face softened and she smiled this time with a tenderness at the thought of her baby son, then she laughed and slipped her arm through that of her friends “Come on in, we’re just in time for some refreshment. Sofia’s been so busy helping me this morning she’ll be glad to have Hannah here to play with, won’t you, Sofee?”

But Sofia was already running across the yard hand in hand with her little cousin, their laughter and shrill cries brought smiles to their mothers faces as well as a frantic cry from little Hope who wanted to join in with the fun.

Olivia slipped her arm through that of Hester’s and together they made their way to the house. The room inside was cool and pleasant with the windows slightly opened to allow the warm fresh air to waft its way through. Cheng Ho Lee appeared, bowed and took Olivia’s request for refreshments with his usual silence. Hester watched him return to the kitchen area and sat down slowly thinking as she did so how much she appreciated Hop Sings clamour over most things.

“You must be missing Ann?”

Olivia’s voice startled her and she glanced over at her friend as though she had forgotten she was there, but then she nodded, bounced Hope - who was grizzling - on her knee “I sometimes think that there’s something very wrong with that house, Livvy. You know Ben and the boys built a mill there years ago, and it’s just rotting away. The couple who lived there first weren’t happy either, he was murdered and his wife went away from here and was never heard from again.”

“I know, Adam told me.” Olivia smiled at Cheng Ho Lee and thanked him as he set down a tray on the low table, “Tom blamed Ben for an accident which crippled him, it made him bitter and jealous, his wife, Joyce, had to put up with a lot of heart ache.”

“That’s what I mean - and then there was Barbara and Andrew Pearson, and we all know how that ended up.”

“Yes,” Olivia nodded and poured out a cup of coffee for Hester and herself, lemonade was available for the girls so she poured some for Hope who accepted it with a gummy smile. “Yes, but it all worked out for the best, after all Barbara’s happy now.”

“Only since she left that house.” Hester scowled into her cup and realised the conversation was drifting away from the point of her visit. She set the cup down and accepted a cookie which she nibbled slowly as she watched Olivia as she sipped her own drink, “Olivia, why not come and stay with us in the main house. There’s plenty of room.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Olivia said in surprise, “why do you ask, Hester?”

“Well, I was thinking -” Hester paused as she tried to juggle the words to make it all sound tactful, “With Adam away again, and having the baby -”

“Other women have their husbands absent from home, Hester, and they have babies too. I was fortunate in that Adam was here when Nathaniel was born and a while after, had he been a simple seaman he could well have been at sea for years and not even known he had a son.”

“You must miss him dreadfully though.” Hester sighed and leaned against the back of the very comfortable settee “I know I would miss Hoss, I would miss him terribly.”

Olivia smiled slowly “I do miss Adam,” she sighed “yes, I miss him as you put it, terribly. It’s almost a physical pain sometimes but I knew that he would be absent from home at times when I married him, he made that quite clear to me, so I fully understood what I was taking on, so to speak. I’ve a lot to keep me busy, and I’ve never been a person craving a lot of company. Why, even in San Francisco I never had a wide circle of friends, I was always too busy with my family.”

She looked then at the hearth, neatly laid logs piled upon the grate waiting for the cool of evening before being lit, her mind drifting back to the big house in the city with dear Abigail, the loneliness of widowhood, raising two little children with the odious presence of Booth and Morgan Phillips ever present. She shivered slightly, and then looked at Hester who was watching her closely, “You have to remember, Hester, I was a widow for some years before I married Adam. I do know what real loneliness really is… and Adam being absent from home, no matter for how long, isn’t as finite as bereavement. It’s a strange intangible thing, but it is different. It’s the difference that makes his absence bearable you see…”

Hester frowned slightly, a little furrow between the eyebrows and she picked Hope up and set her down on the rug with a cookie, “I didn’t mean to sound as though I was prying, it was just that I worried about you, especially with Candy saying that part of the reason he was going to take on the job in town was because of Ann. It made me think -”

Olivia leaned forward and placed a gentle hand on her friends arm “Please don’t think anything that causes you to worry about us, Hester. Ann and I are different people. I was raised on a ranch remember? I have always been alone to some extent, even as a child. Ann is a city girl from back east, she did well to put up with living in the rurals for so long.”

Hester nodded, “Ann was a rich girl, pampered by her family until she married Candy, then things changed for them all. She’s strong willed though, being pampered as she was didn’t cause her to be selfish or proud as it could have done, she set her mind on finding Candy no matter what, and -”

“And she did, she found him and now here they are, happy and expecting their third child. I am happy for them, Hester. I think Candy will make a wonderful sheriff.”

“And a handsome one.” Hester laughed “A bit different from Roy.”

“And Clem” and the two of them began to giggle like two naughty school girls.

“Have you heard from Adam at all?” Hester asked once they had calmed down, “Are you getting letters through from him?”

“I’ve had one or two.” Olivia replied as she refilled her cup and that of her guest, “He’s well, and concerned for us all of course.”

From the corner of the room came the wail of a baby and excusing herself Olivia got to her feet and hurried to the crib where her little son cried for her attention. She wasn’t surprised to find Hester right behind her, and both women leaned over to smile at the infant. Brown eyes twinkled back at them, a quivering lip was stilled and dimpled hands reached out for mother who quickly picked him up and held her close to him, across her shoulder, stroking his back.

“What made you call him Nathaniel?” Hester asked retrieving Hope from her attempts to clamber into the crib and take her cousins place. “Was it a family name?”

“Not at all.” Olivia sat down and settled the baby in her arms, stroked his face and gazed down upon him with such love that Hester felt her throat tighten with those emotions common to women who know and understand what it is to love the most vulnerable of beings, “Nathaniel was the name of a character in a book Adam was reading, he liked it, and so did I.” 

“ It’s a long name for such a small baby.” Hester laughed and stroked the baby’s cheek getting a narrow eyed look from him as a result as though he queried why she would do such a thing. He was all smiles soon though, his cheeks dimpled, the dark eyes twinkled “He’s handsome, like his father.”

“He’s just like Adam.” Olivia said with such conviction that if anyone dared to contradict her they would have immediately swallowed the words.

………….

Hop Sing set down the pot of steaming coffee, just as Ben preferred it, with a tray of refreshments that he knew his friend would enjoy. He nodded over to the rancher as the big man came from the study area, stretching high to get the kinks out of his back which came from the piles of paper work that seemed to take up more hours in the day than ever. “Thanks Hop Sing. Any idea where Hester is today?”

“Missy Hester take girls to visit Miss Olivia, see how she is and maybe not missing Mr Adam too much.”

“0h, that’s what’s been bothering her is it? I wondered what was going on in that head of hers lately.”

“Cousin Ann going to town make Missy Hester worry too much about Missy Olivia.” Hop Sing observed, always pleased to spin a little homespun philosophy whenever he could and satisfied when Ben grunted his agreement.

Once Hop Sing had left the room Ben looked around him, sunlight streamed through the big window at the dining room area. He wandered over to look out at the view of the mountains and nodded to himself, thoughts of other times slipped into his mind and with a sigh he turned to return to the settee and his coffee which awaited him on the low table. Some books had been pulled loose from the book shelf, possibly Hope’s attempts to ‘play’ during her crawling adventure of the morning. He leaned down and began to tidy them up, but one caught his attention and he stood up with it in his hand. It fell open quite naturally and the first thing Ben read was:

“You better not never tell nobody but God!”

It was written on a scrappy piece of paper tucked in between the books pages. Ben stared down at it for some seconds before moving to the low table and sitting down in his chair to read the words again and to check and see if there was anything else to follow them.. The paper was old and fragile and where it had been folded over in order to conceal its message the creases threatened to cause the paper to fall apart so it needed both his hands to hold the pieces together.

“You better not never tell nobody but God!” 

They were words that grabbed one by the throat, demanding explanations, begging names. He glanced down to where someone had scribbled a diagram, cryptic and totally nonsensical to him but obviously important to the one who had written those words and to the one who would receive them.

He realised upon looking into the book, which was still open at the pages where he had found the paper, that there was something else there and he touched it gently with his finger because it was so obviously the fine strands of hair from - who? Too long for them to have come from an infant, even too long for a man, so a woman then?

He turned to the flyleaf and read the inscription : “My dearest wife, Jane from your 
husband, Paul.”

With a sigh of dissatisfaction he stared at the writing. He could remember now having read it several times already, ever since he had picked it up at the book sale in town. He remembered reading it as he had first held it and had wondered who they were, this Jane and her husband, Paul. He had read the same words when he had first opened it to read the story it contained and had smiled because this Jane obviously disdained the light romantic novels mostly associated with women, a lady who preferred Homer to Dickens or Bronte and Austen.

There was no date penned to the inscription, nor on that tell tale slip of paper. The hand writing was neither masculine enough for him to think of it as coming from another man. At the same time it was not feminine enough to belong to a young woman, and if this mysterious Jane, who appreciated Homer, had, in fact, written the note, then why had she written it in such ungrammatical terms?

He reopened the book and shook out the strands of hair and held them to the light - there were enough there to indicate the colour, a rich titian red. Ben sat for some moments trying to recall anyone who would have possessed such a magnificent head of hair as this promised it to have been. No one came to mind and slowly, reluctantly, he folded it within the slip of paper and returned it between the pages of the book

Chapter 6

When Hester left the house Olivia returned to the buttery and completed the task of storing away the pats of butter. Doing so gave her time to think over her conversation with the other woman and she realised that although she had spoken honestly she hadn’t truly revealed her deepest feelings about her husband’s absence.

She could weep easily at any time at the thought of him being so far away and even now she had to stop her work, hold onto the edge of the bench and struggle to keep back tears. She loved him desperately, so much so that it was a physical pain to be without him at times. She had said that being a widow made a husbands absence different to that of his being away at sea, and yes, that was true. But she had held back from qualifying the statement by describing how great a torment it was to be wondering where he was, whether or not he was safe, or ill. She had refrained from mentioning the agony of wondering as she lay in bed at night whether his ship was being tossed about in a storm from which he would not, this time, survive. 

She didn’t mention how hard it had been not to vent her anger on him when he had come to tell her he had to return to receive his orders. How he had held her in his arms and she had fought not to hit him, struggled inwardly to remain calm as he told her he loved her and would miss her but …duty called. How could she blame him though when he had never thought to fall in love and marry when he had signed on all those years ago? How could she let her anger and resentment poison the love they had and cause him more anguish than he had to suffer anyway upon leaving them all.

“Mommy?”

Sofia was tugging at her apron and she looked down at her daughter “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Natty wants you, he’s crying real hard.” a concerned puckered little face looked up into her own, and she wondered if Sofia worried and fretted over Adams departure, or noticed the times when she, Olivia, found it hard to hide her own sadness. She stroked back the fine hair that had loosened upon her daughters forehead and nodded “Give him a cuddle, dear, I’ll be in as soon as this is finished.”

The child turned immediately and ran out of the room, while Olivia quickly finished her task. Memories of Adams last moments with them flashed through her mind again and she pushed them to one side, Hesters conversation had opened the lid to feelings she fought each day to suppress.

The baby was fretful, and even when she picked him up he continued to whimper. She stroked his back and walked around the room softly crooning to him until finally he stilled, quietened and drowsy eyed gradually fell asleep. She smiled over his head at Sofia who was nursing her doll, a new one that Adam had bought her before he had left them. “Well now, sofia, I think he will sleep a while longer now.”

“He cries loud doesn’t he?” Sofia observed as she gently wrapped her doll in the little shawl Olivia had knitted for it.

“Yes, he has a good pair of lungs on him.” Olivia smiled and lowered the infant into the crib and pulled over the cover, “I think he had tummy ache.”

“I get tummy ache sometimes,” Sofia observed “It makes me want to cry too.”

Olivia nodded but was too interested in looking at the baby, he was so fascinating to gaze at, so small and delicate. She could barely remember what Sofia and Reuben had looked like when they were new born. Sofia, of course, had been born when she was only recently widowed and was ill as a result for weeks afterwards. All of her early weeks were, for Olivia, a blur, a hazy period of time confused with pain and fever. With Reuben, well, time had passed and she had clearer memories of him as a fat little toddler than a newborn. Memories do fade, even precious ones and so now she wanted to gorge on the sight of this new son, little Nathaniel Erik Cartwright.

………..

Ben couldn’t forget the message on that scrap of paper in the book. By the time Hester had returned from Olivia’s he was re-reading it, and trying to recall when he had bought it home. Hester, as usual alert to the moods of her men folk, quickly discerned there was something on his mind and asked him outright if anything was worrying him, preparing herself to let him know that Olivia was just fine, so was quite surprised when he showed her the book “Can you remember when I bought this, Hester?”

She took it from him and examined it closely then shook her head “No, I can’t, Ben. Why? Is it important?”

“I don’t know…” Ben said quietly letting the words fade away as he took the book from her and continued to stare at it.

Hop Sing came into the room with refreshments. He knew the road was dusty as the day had been dry and that Hester would relish a fresh drink. He put down the tray and said nonchalantly “You bring book home when Mr Frobisher leave town.”

“I thought I had bought it in a book sale.” Ben said with a scowl and looking at Hop Sing as though daring him to say anything further to prove him wrong.

“No,” Hop Sing said with a certainty in his voice that convinced Ben that his friend was not mistaken, “Mr Frobisher leave big library of books for town to use, he say to you take what you like and you bring three, maybe four, book home. You not read them much.”

“That’s right,” Ben laughed “I didn’t. I have to admit I liked the thought of their appearance in the book shelf. I did start reading them though …” he glanced down at the book in his hand “Probably why I never found it before, I didn’t finish reading it.”

Hester smiled and looked puzzled “What do you mean, Ben? What hadn’t you found before?”

He opened the book and extracted the slip of paper with the strands of hair folded within it. “This.”

She read it through and frowned, “I wonder what she meant, and what the diagram stands for… quite a mystery.”

“But you think a woman wrote it?”

“Well, yes, my instincts immediately thought of a woman.”

“A woman with red hair.” Ben mused and frowned, “it’s a nuisance, I wish I hadn’t found it now. It’s really annoying me.”

“Stop thinking about it, just put it back in the book where it has been for years, and leave it be.” Hester said with a smile and reached out to take it from him.

He smiled at her and she knew he was humouring her so let her hand drop back into her lap. She knew him well enough to know that he would fret away about it until he actually did something about it, or he would just tuck it away and leave it alone, but then she shook her head, no, that wasn’t Ben’s way, she knew that now he knew of the note’s existence, he would have to scratch around until he discovered more about it.

…………

Olivia nursed her baby with the lamplight shining behind them providing them a soft glowing night light. It was a scene that had often enchanted Adam, a mother and child bound together in the most natural of scenes, and as she thought of him now she had to close her eyes and lean back against the pillows.

It was so hard letting go, even for the time ahead during which they would be parted. As Nathaniel’s little hand clenched and unclenched almost in tune to his sucking she thought of Adam, and forced her mind to dwell upon happy aspects of their parting, if such a thing were possible. His letters for example… yes, his letters, such a source of encouragement, of love for her. That was one thing she could never doubt about him, that his love for her was so total. He had married later in life than many, because he needed to make the right choice and she felt privileged that he had chosen her.

She stroked the baby’s head and closed her eyes as she mentally read the letters that she now knew by heart. Words of consolation at their parting, of love and his feeling of loss, his longing already to be together again.

Nathaniel’s fingers touched her breast, as light as feather down and she looked down upon him and kissed his dark head of hair. “I love you so much,” she whispered, “so very much.”

The baby blinked long lashed dark eyes, a button nose wrinkled and he paused in sucking to smile a milky grin. 

………..

In his cabin Adam Cartwright signed his name to a letter he had just finished writing to his wife. He re-read it through, blotted it carefully and then folded it into the white envelope. They had crossed into the southern hemisphere now, the temperatures were rising, the constellations above them in the heavens were changing, and the ship moved onwards with a relentless motion, slicing its way through the waters and to its destination.

"My love for you is the one constant in my life, dearest Livvy. Without you, or thoughts of you, I am as nothing."

Chapter 7………..

Julian and Martha Frobisher were delighted to welcome Ben to their home again as since his retirement from his firm of solicitors Julian had become increasingly frail and isolated. Martha looked upon Ben’s visit as some kind of therapy to get her husband interested in life again although she couldn’t help but contrast the appearance of the rugged rancher to the more pallid one of her loved one.

They passed the afternoon in non consequential gossip about old associates and laughed over the various misdeeds of the younger Cartwrights in the time of the Frobishers sojourn in Virginia City. A good meal was enjoyed by all washed down with splendid wine of which Julian was a connoisseur.

Despite the day having been warm the evening was cool so a small fire was soon burning in the hearth and the two men sat either side of it in large well padded leather chairs while Martha sat to one side leaving them to talk while she contented herself to listen.

Julian puffed on a cigar and blew out a stream of smoke before saying that he’d been curious to know what was the reason for Ben’s visit ever since he had received the telegram asking if it was convenient. Ben smiled enigmatically and passed his hand across the lower part of his mouth “Well, you may think it all rather strange, and even fanciful, but I stumbled upon a mystery recently, one I thought you would be able to help me sort out.”

Martha leaned forward, like most women the mystical and mysterious appealed strongly to her, whereas Julian, the pragmatist and legal minded merely nodded “Nothing to do with that purchaser of the Ponderosa from some years ago?”

Ben laughed “No, nothing to do with that, although I don’t think there’s much mystery to it now.” Ben frowned, the thought of his eldest son crossed his mind and he felt a second of anxiety. He flashed another smile, rather forced this time, “Hoss and Joe still have no idea who it was, although I think they’ve forgotten all about it now.”

“A lots happened since then.” Julian said leaning against the back of his chair and surveying Ben thoughtfully, “So? What is this mystery?”

“Well,” Ben rubbed his chin and gave a rather weak grin, “As I said, you may think me rather fanciful when I tell you about it, although I did bring the book with me…and what I found in it.”

“What book’s that?” Julian frowned and watched Ben produce a leather bound book from his kangeroo skin briefcase. He took it from his friends hands and glanced at it before looking first at his wife and then back to Ben “What’s so important about it? We had a copy of this ourselves once, can’t think what happened to it.”

“This is it,” Ben said, glancing at Martha who had looked rather startled upon seeing it, obviously her recollection of where it had gone was better than her husbands. “You donated a large number of books to start a library in Virginia City at the time you left town, Julian. You allowed me to select some for my own personal use and this is one of them.”

“So? What about it?” Julian slumped back against the chair again and gave Ben the benefit of a sharp legal eye.

“I found this in it when I was looking through it the other day.” and Ben produced the note and the strands of red hair which the couple peered at closely for some while.

Julian shook his head “A strange note, either someone semi-literate or a youngster still learning how to write correctly. The diagram looks like the writer’s indicating the way to go from one place to another … the hair … red, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s been in the paper for so long it hasn’t lost its colour at all.” Ben said and took the paper and hair from Julian’s hand.

“May I look at it again please, Ben?” Martha put out a hand and despite her previous scrutiny now paid closer attention to what she held, “Was - is there - an inscription in the book?”

“Yes, it’s from someone called Paul, to his wife, Jane.” Ben replied and passed the book to her with a smile. “The book’s a first edition, which is one of the reasons it appealed to me in the first place, I thought it would look impressive on the book shelf.”

Martha nodded “I’m sure it did.” she replied and after a moment had passed she said in her quiet voice “Paul was my grandfather, which means that Jane was obviously my grand mother.”

“Oh, so this is really a family heirloom?” Ben nodded and frowned slightly, “Would you prefer to have it back, Martha?”

“No, that’s alright, Ben, I’ve no use for it and have got used to not having it here. They moved to the New World when they were newly weds, you know. Well connected and with money so life wasn’t such a hardship for them as for so many others.”

“I can imagine if they can afford to import first editions as they must have done.” Ben smiled and glanced at Julian who was listening with his head to one side and a slight smile on his face.

“In time they had children, of course.” Martha frowned, “My father was the middle of three children and rather high spirited, he often disagreed with my grandfather about matters and I believe he left home for some years at one time due to one extremely violent argument.”

Julian sighed and fidgeted, “Come along, Martha, get to the point. You’re prevaricating like an old woman.”

Martha indulged her husband with a whimsical smile, “The red hair you found was mine, Ben. When I was much younger I have a mass of red hair.”

Ben raised his eyebrows and with a smile he nodded “Yes, of course, I remember now. Goodness me, how the memory slips with time. I should have remembered that, Martha. You were often referred to as the red headed …” he paused wondering if she would object to being reminded of her profession as a washer woman or laundress all that time ago.

“Oh I can imagine what they called me back then.” she laughed, the sound of youth in her voice and for an instant Ben could recall her back in the days when Virginia City was a place full of shanty cabins and tents and foul smelling odorous people all striving to hit the big Bonanza. She had scrubbed many pairs of pants, shirts and long johns, and after each wash would carefully seive through the washing water and collect more gold that had fallen from the seams of those clothes than all the miners had collected in a week.

“It paid for Julian to set up in business.” she said simply, “And it was back breaking work too, but honest labour for all that.”

Julian put down his cigar with an air of exasperation “Come along Martha, tell us about that note. What does it mean?”

“It means what it says, my dear. You see, my father -” she paused and reddened, looked down at the floor and sighed “I suppose you would say he was a philanderer. He broke my poor mother’s heart many a time with his amours, and caused me a great deal of distress into the bargain.”

Ben glanced at Julian who was frowning and staring into the fire, he sighed and wondered if perhaps he should stop the conversation from going any further. Revelations could be painful things, despite the years that had passed. Martha looked at him and smiled shyly, “we lived in a big house with lots of rooms and corridors. Once a week I was told to play in a certain room and to stay there with my governess and not to wander around the house at all. My mother was ill at the time, from child birth you understand?”

Julian sighed, he was never a patient man and was finding this telling of an old story rather irksome, especially as it was coming from his wife. “I never liked him, Martha’s father, detestable man.” 

His voice was sharp, and loud. It caught both Ben and Martha off guard and they turned to observe him in silence, at which he shrugged and mumbled how it had been because of Martha’s father that they had arrived in Virginia City without a nickel or a dime to their name “Just the things we were wearing and a change of clothes in a carpet bag.”

“Yes, he was a cruel man” Martha nodded slowly and clasped her hands tightly in her lap, “My mother suffered so much from him, I - I swore I’d never forgive him for what he did to her, and to us.”

“I’m sorry, Martha. Would you prefer to leave the subject now? It’s just something that piqued my curiosity, that’s all.” Ben said quietly and placed a gentle hand upon hers, noticing as he did so that her hands were trembling.

“It’ll be good to give this an airing now.” she replied with a touch of bravado in her voice and a smile, “But let’s have some wine to drink along with it, it will make the telling easier and the hearing more pleasant.”

Julian nodded “Couldn’t agree more.” he muttered and rang the bell which summoned their butler.

After some moments had lapsed and with a glass of wine at their elbows to pick up and enjoy whenever they wished the two men waited for Martha to continue her story.

“I was worried about my mother that particular day, and when my Governess had nodded off for her afternoon doze I decided I would go out and find my way to the room where she was resting. I was very young but knew my way about the house well enough although there were certain rooms I was not permitted, of course. There was a separate wing to the house and a door that led to it. I knew my fathers study was there, and presumed that was where he worked.”

The fire snapped and crackled, Julian placed another log upon the burning embers in the grate and both men picked up their glasses and sipped their wine. Martha was lost in her memories, she was the little girl wandering down the corridors to find her mother but curious as to what was behind the door to her father’s study.

“I found mother and she was very ill. A woman was with her, a nurse I presume now. I ran to my mother but the woman held me back and told me to go away. I thought that my father needed to know about mother so I hurried to the door that led to the wing where his study was…. But there were lots of doors, and I opened them one by one until I found him. He was with a young woman, she was a black woman, very beautiful. I knew her as Colette and had seen her in the house before. She was different from a lot of the slaves, she had an accent, dressed well, and didn’t work in the plantations. Of course, although I didn’t understand what was happening, later I realised that she didn’t really have to work, my father took care of her very well.”

“I never knew anything about this,” Julian said stiffly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Martha looked at her husband rather thoughtfully and sighed “It had nothing to do with us, dear. Mother was beyond being hurt by the time we met and married.” she looked at Ben, “Of course, father was in a rage and I was beaten severely, I can remember Colette watching as he hit me. Her face was totally expressionless, her eyes just looked at me as though what she saw wasn’t really happening. It was some days later when I was in the library that she found me and slipped me that piece of paper. She told me to keep it, to not forget it and she cut some of my hair and said that was like a vow, a sacred promise. I was to keep quiet about it forever.”

“And the diagram?” Ben asked after some moments of silence had elapsed.

“It was the way to get to her own private room.. She said I could visit anytime I liked, she said that perhaps soon I would like coming to see her.” she frowned, she was elderly and her brow was creased with many years of frowning just as her cheeks had long lost the bloom of youth but she still retained a prettiness that indicated the beauty she had once been. “I did visit her occasionally especially as she was seen so seldom in the house. There were whispers among the other servants but they always went quiet when I was there. Then one day when I went there she was in bed with a baby in her arms. My half brother.”

“Good grief!” Julian exploded as though such things didn’t happen in real life, despite the fact he’d been in law long enough to have dealt with countless similar cases. “Your father was a down right scoundrel.”

“I’ve never pretended that he was anything else, dear.” Martha said soothingly, “Now, drink your wine.”

“What happened to them?” Ben now asked as he put the near empty glass down upon the table.

“I saw Colette several times as I grew up. Sometimes she would put her finger to her lips and just say “Remember”, which reminded me of the note she had written and that I’d hidden in an old book. Of course, being so young at the time, I’d forgotten which book I’d put it into.” she smiled and Ben chuckled quietly while even Julian allowed himself a wry smile.

“And the child?” Ben asked.

“The last time I saw Colette with Silas, that was his name, was after I married Julian. They had left my home a long time ago, father had set them up in a home of their own. Mother was dead, of course, and my own brother had joined her years later. Silas was about 18 then, he was quite light skinned with beautiful hazel eyes, a handsome man, in fact, he resembled my father quite a lot. He was courting a young woman, if I remember rightly. I don’t know if she knew about his mother but I rather think not -.” she paused, “Father set him up in business, as an architect I believe.”

“And that’s all you know about them, you never found out anything else?” Ben looked at her and wondered how it must have felt to have been a little girl stumbling upon such a secret, one that she had kept hidden for so long that most of the participants in her story must have been long dead.

“No, all I ever knew was that Colette died not long after father. I found that out when I returned home for his funeral.”

“What a farce that was, you were his only legal heir and he left you nothing.” Julian shook his head, “A cruel man.”

“We needed nothing from him, not by that time. Colette wasn’t at the funeral but Silas was although I didn’t see him. Apart from some bequests he was the sole beneficiary of my father’s estate. I was allowed my mother’s jewellery though.” and she smiled as she said that and gently touched the strand of pearls that adorned her neck.

“So you don’t know if he had children or anything like that?” Ben frowned and shrugged “Well, not such a mystery after all.”

“Nothing in life really is once examined and set out as fact.” Julian replied, “A mystery only exists in our own minds after all.”

Martha placed a hand on Ben’s arm “Never mind, Ben, it was a romance, in a way, wasn’t it?”

Ben said nothing to that although he nodded and looked at the log burning in the grate. He felt cheated out of some excitement, disappointed. “I suppose he never had children, just faded out of existence.”

“I don’t know,” Martha said, “He may have had children for all I know. Strange to think that, my fathers name carried on through his illegitimate son.”

“What name was it, Martha?” Ben enquired while still looking at the flames in the fire.

“Barrington.” she replied, “My father was called Henry Barrington. They lived in New Jersey if I remember rightly.” and without another word she finished her wine and then in her usual quiet manner excused herself in order to retire to her bed.

Ben lowered his head until his chin rested upon his chest, it would be interesting to see what had happened to Silas Barrington of New Jersey, he mused. No story is completely without an end until ..well… until it ended.

 

Chapter 8

Due to the heat in the cabin the two men had discarded their jackets, Adam had loosened his collar and rolled up his sleeves while Eaun was content to lounge back with just his shirt unbuttoned at the throat. They had enjoyed a pleasant meal together and were now relaxing over a game of chess. Ames had brought in a tray for the coffee which both men enjoyed dark and sweet.

“What do you know about this land, Adam?” Eaun asked as his hand hovered over his rook and his eyes scanned the board for the best strategy for his next move.

“What most would know from books,” Adam replied with a slow grin as he sat back and crossed his legs while he waited for Eaun to continue the game. “There’s a lot of sugar plantations, have been since the 16th century when the Dutch brought in African slaves to work on them. The Dutch occupied the northern area of Brazil until 1654. France tried to snatch some of the territory but lost out and then the Portuguese came and established Rio de Janeiro. There’s still an active slave trade here although the British demanded the slave trade to end if Brazil wanted to be recognised as an independent country.”

He paused as Euan made his move, his fingers played over his mouth as he contemplated his own while it was Euan’s turn to talk “So what happened? I understood that there was a king of Brazil for a time.”

“Oh yes, and there still is, but Dom Pedro was the first, known as the liberator. He was Portuguese. His family fled to Brazil when Portugal was having a little civil war of its own but when things calmed down Dom Pedro’s father returned and left his son as regent, but Dom Pedro cared about the people and the land, he set himself up as King with the people’s support and ‘liberated’ Brazil from Portuguese authority. Eventually he returned to Portugal to take up the throne there and left his son Dom Pedro the second in charge, although he was only an infant at the time…Dom Pedro II … but he turned out to be pretty capable in ruling the place.” he picked his chess piece and set it down carefully.

.Having played his hand Adam got to his feet and strolled over to the desk in order to make them some coffee. He rubbed his brow thoughtfully and wondered how hot it would be outside. He carried the coffee over to Euan and resumed his seat, “There was a war between Brazil and its allies called the War of the Triple Alliance, that was in the years 1864-1870. I think the dust is just beginning to settle down, its still part of their recent history.” he stroked his upper lip thoughtfully “Pedro is about 50 - 51 now, a very intelligent man I believe and well respected among the literary and scientific minds today. From what I know and have heard his rule over these people have kept them bound together despite the war against Paraguay and other incidents. Ah, I see you have check-mate, Euan.” and he smiled as he raised his cup to his mouth and began to drink the strong brew.

“And this venture we’re on, will it involve him?”

“Pedro? I very much doubt it. We have to find three men, lost somewhere in the swamplands of Brazil known as the Panantol.*. I’m not sure how that is going to happen as finding a needle in a haystack may be considerably easier.” he frowned, “Personally I’m doubtful about the whole assignment, there seems to be no logical plan set out, no reasonable explanation as to what they were doing -”

“Searching for diamonds I heard.” Eaun muttered as he continued to collect up the chess pieces and reset them for a new game.

“Yes, searching for diamonds. It’s strange -” he paused and looked at Eaun thoughtfully, “They say the Panantol is rich with plants to heal any type of illness, a place that is as terrible as it is beautiful”

“I’ve heard that too.” Eaun replied, “I’m hoping that I’ll be able to see some of them while we’re there.”

Adam shrugged “No doubt you will, doctor. But -” he passed a hand over the back of his neck and stretched his shoulders as though to ease the growing tension “it still doesn’t make sense. Three men, from different countries, with a party of nigh on 50 go out to look for diamonds? The wealth of this country is in sugar, coffee and scientific discoveries, not diamonds.”

Eaun laughed and shook his head as though he found Adam’s philosophy incredibly naïve, “Why not diamonds? Like gold and silver it’s a precious commodity. Anyone finding an area to mine for diamonds would be making his fortune.”

“His fortune…” Adam said quietly, “and his country would certainly benefit.”

“Of course it would.”

“Interesting.” Adam narrowed his eyes but instead of speaking any more he stood up and went to his desk to pour out more coffee.

Euan glanced over at the clock and rose to his feet “Time for me to go on my rounds or rather to check on the men who are in sick bay. Only got three invalids just now and none of them serious.”

“That could change once we reach our destination, Euan. The climate isn’t the healthiest, you could have malaria, dengue fever and heaven alone knows what else.”

“Thankfully I have three very good orderlies who know exactly what they’re doing.” Eua n replied with a grin, “See you in the morning, Adam.”

The cabin door closed and Adam retreated to the desk where he pulled open a drawer from which he took his orders. Once again he sat down to read through his instructions, the history of the men involved, the geography of the country to which he was going. It was all a very long way from home.

…………..

Candy looked up from his desk and smiled as Hoss and Joe stepped into the Sheriff’s office, “Have you two come in for a social visit or to give yourselves up for some gross misadventure?”

Joe laughed although Hoss looked serious as he considered over the words of their former foreman, “I think I’ve become too settled down nowadays to get up to any gross misadventures, even if I’d like to have one.” Joe chuckled and pulled out a chair, seating himself down and stretching out his legs, “How are you getting on, Candy? Ready to come back to the Ponderosa yet?”

“No, not yet.” Candy grinned and the blue eyes twinkled, “Ann’s settled in and the children enjoy being able to walk to school instead of being up so early to hitch a lift from Hank.” he looked over at Hoss “You alright, Hoss?”

“Jest fine. Jest missing an old friend is all.” and Hoss sighed and crossed his arms across his chest, “You sure you ain’t regretting this move just an itsy bitsy bit?”

“So far - no.” Candy smiled although his eyes had grown solemn, “Well, apart from missing you all. How’s your Pa?”

“He’s in San Francisco just now, visiting some old friends.” Joe volunteered, and picked up a pencil which he played about with for some minutes before setting it back down, “We’re here to meet him and make sure he’s alright.”

“Any reason why he shouldn’t be?” Candy asked anxiously

“No, not really.” Joe smiled and shrugged “He got it into his head that he’d stumbled upon a mystery, which sent him off to visit the Frobishers - you remember them, don’t you?”

“Not really, before my time.” Candy replied and nodded over to Hoss “Hey, Hoss, make us some coffee will you?”

“Ain’t you got deputies to do that for you?” Hoss said glancing at the clock, “We gotta go anyhow, Pa will be gitting into town any moment now.”

“Let me know what the mystery is…that’s what I’m here for don’t forget, solving mysteries and murders.” Candy laughed as he watched them hurry out of the door.

On the sidewalk they paused and looked at one another, Hoss thumbed back his hat “Poor Candy.”

“Yeah, you can say that again, he sure is missing us, ain’t he?” 

“Yeah, he sure is, poor guy.”

They turned together and began to make their way to the stagecoach depot which Ben preferred to use to the train, neither of them spoke as their thoughts lingered over their friends sad plight. Hoss sighed and shook his head once, and Joe rubbed his jaw and sighed as well, but the sight of the stage lumbering into town stopped them saying a word.

In his office Candy poured out a strong cup of coffee and sat down in a chair long polished by Roy over the years. He tilted the chair back and smiled, sipped his drink and thought over his two friends, long days chasing cows, digging out water holes, putting up fences… he grinned again, really, what was there to miss?

 

Chapter 9

The rainy season had ended not long before their arrival and the heat was heavy and humid as moisture from the flooded lands was drawn up by the sun and evaporated in the air so that it clung to their clothes, to their skin so that clothes became damp and perspiration prickled their flesh. Mosquitoes were already out in packs, zipping around their heads and ears, landing on their exposed body parts. 

Andrew Beamish, first lieutenant on board the Shenandoah, resisted the urge to unbutton his jacket. Every so often he cast a look over at his Captain and longed to see him casually loosen his clothing but the man sat in the wagon transporting them to the hotel as though made from wood. Beamish had to settle for mopping his brow with a clean handkerchief and praying that when they were in the hotel there would be some cooler air.

Children ran alongside the vehicle, scantily clad in rags or completely naked, brown skinned, with olive black eyes and white flashing teeth exposed in wide smiles as they shouted to the two officers and raised their hands in attitudes of beggars everywhere. They were lovely children but Adam had already instructed that they were to be given nothing, after all, there was only so much they could give, their largesse wasn’t great and if one gave to just a few next time there would be a multitude thronging around them.

Beamish squinted up at the sun and lowered the peak of his cap, he looked at Adam who was looking thoughtfully ahead as though his mind was elsewhere, which, indeed it was.

“Will there be an interpreter there, sir? It’s just that I don’t speak Portuguese.”

Adam cleared his throat, clearly startled by the sound of his companions voice, he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders “I don’t think we will need to worry about that, Beamish.” he paused, “Not just yet anyway.”

“Do you think we’ll find them, sir, these men that have gotten lost?”

Adam grimaced, a downturn of the mouth, “Well, I don’t know, Beamish. We can only do our best given the circumstances and the information. The Pantanol is vast, after the rains the floods can prevent even the most experienced boatman to get lost. We should be getting more details from our contact at the hotel.”

Beamish nodded and lapsed into silence. The children continued to run alongside the wagon and he wondered where they came from, so many hoping for a few coins to ease their way through the next 24 hours. He wondered about their lives, their families and felt uncomfortable at the thought that he had given nothing to help even one of them.

At the hotel two children ran to hold the heads of the horses while the officers got down from the vehicle. They grinned at Adam and nodded, and Beamish was gratified to note his Captain flip a coin to them, obviously a worker was worthy of his wages after all. The owner of the vehicle was paid and the last Beamish saw of him was brandishing his whip at the children to get them to clear a path for him to drive through.

The respite from the sun and the brightness of its light was a relief, both men involuntarily relaxed as they stepped across the foyer to the desk. The hotel Splendide had indeed been superb when it was built, even now a hundred years later it still bore the dignified architecture of its Portuguese architect. Members of staff moved about in crisp clean linen uniforms, it was a world away from what Beamish had expected from any place in Brazil. He had neglected to remember just how much the Portuguese colonists had invested into the country and how their customs and traditions had been absorbed by the native community.

A tall distinguished man with a shock of white hair stepped from an office and approached them, he gave the slightest of bows in acknowledgement of their arrival. “Captain, please to follow me.”

Adam and Beamish removed their hats and complied with the request without a word. The darkness of the interior of the hotel had given a false impression as to its being cooler for it was not, Beamish felt sweat trickling down his back and hurriedly wiped his neck around his collar to relieve the discomfort there.

Europeans and Brazilians watched them pass by, and then resumed their own business. Adam had no doubt that they all knew who they were, where they came from and which ship they had left berthed in the bay. He felt their curiosity but had no desire to look back to take more notice of it than that, he followed the Manager down some stairs and along a corridor “Here, gentlemen.” and a door opened, their host stepped back to admit them and then closed the door behind them.

Beamish glanced nervously around the shadows of the room and discerned several men who had risen to their feet upon their entry. Adam stepped forward “Jotham? I hadn’t expected to see you here.”

Jotham Morton smiled and extended his hand which Adam shook, “It’s good to see you here, Captain. We were waiting for your arrival before we commenced any further proceedings.” he acknowledged Beamish with a brief nod of the head before turning to the other men in the room “This is Mark Yates who is representing Michael Scolley. Mr Yates has been commissioned by the British Government to locate Mr Scolley, or failing that, to report back whatever findings we come across.”

“We?” Adam snapped and looked with narrowed eyes at Morton who nodded and turned then to the person standing next to him,

“May I present his Excellency Baron Radamsky who -”

The Russian stepped forward, his head held up high so that he appeared to be looking down his nose at Adam and Beamish, he bowed, clicked his heels “I am brother in law to Anatoly Sokolovich. I have requested this privilege to find him on behalf of my Government and for the sake of my dear sister. A distressing situation, you understand?”

Adam gave a mere twitch of the lips in acknowledgement and then looked again at Jotham, “Well, I presume you and I will be representing Jefferson?”

“Er - you will be, Captain.” Jotham said quietly, “The thing is that - it’s considered to be a highly risky venture and we have orders that we keep our search as quiet as possible. The mistake the others made was in taking too large a party with them into the interior. It’s impossible to hide over 50 men out there, they were mad to even contemplate it.”

Mark Yates leaned over the desk and turned up a lamp. He was sallow featured and hollow eyed, his movements were nervous and jerky as though he expected some large object to come by and whisk him into oblivion at any time. Without saying a word he began to unroll a large map of the Pantanol. He stabbed a finger at the left hand corner “This is where we are, gentlemen. The original party left here some months ago after several years of close research and planning. I’ve Michael’s notes here -” he produced a thick wad of paper which he slammed down on top of the map, “proving how hard they worked at this project.”

“To collect diamonds?” Adam muttered innocently - or perhaps not - as he looked down at the notebook, “If I may?” and he reached out a hand to pick it up, but Yates covered it with his own hand and shook his head

“Perhaps later, Captain.” he looked at Morton who raised his eyebrows and looked tight lipped, “They took several boats down the Paraguay heading towards the state of Mato Grosso do Sul; to the city of Campo Grande located outside the basin of the Mato Grosso.
It was before the rains came. We know that they arrived there safely and embarked on the next stage of the journey.”

Radamsky cleared his throat and with his finger traced the route along the Paraguay river that would take the party from their town to the Campo Grande. He looked at Adam and the other men there with his eyes glittering behind spectacles “From there they entered the wetlands. We have only eyewitness accounts of what happened to them from therein.”

“Eyewitnesses?” Adam raised his dark brows “Who are they?”

“The few men who came back.” Mark Yates muttered. “The survivors.”

“And are they here?” Adam asked looking at Jotham who nodded slowly “Several have gone back to their people, they didn’t want to be any further involved. They believed the whole expedition to be cursed and didn’t want to risk the wrath of their gods again, they may not survive a second time.”

Adam nodded and looked at Yates who was staring at him “Anything else?”

“We don’t know how far they got into the interior. There are Indian tribes in there of whom we know nothing, some have or had never seen a white man before, never known our weaponry that’s for sure.”

“There was fighting then?” Adam said quietly his eyes fixed to the notebook resting under Yates hand.

“Apparently so. The accounts of the eyewitnesses differs somewhat as some had left the party before the fighting, scared off by taboo’s and such. These Indians use poison darts, and who knows what else, they come like ghosts and disappear the same…” Jotham continued, “We have to find them, Captain.”

Beamish glanced at his Captain. It seemed to him that there was probably not much to find in the way of surviving white men, perhaps what the other men really meant was that they had to find the diamonds. He wondered what was going through Adam’s mind now, whether it felt there was little point in proceeding further and getting back on board their ship and leaving the place.

Radamsky was surveying them with a sharp eye, his lips twitching slightly while Jotham was intent on looking down on the map. Adam shrugged “Well, what else is there for you to tell me, gentlemen? How many of you will actually be accompanying us on this little trip?”

Chapter 10

It was Radamsky who answered the Captain. After removing his spectacles he looked Adam straight in the eyes and indicated that the time had come for them to sit around the table and discuss the matter. “I don’t know what information you  have about this situation, Captain, but I think you need to know more about the men involved and the story behind this expedition of theirs and why our countries are so interested in finding them now.”

Adam nodded in agreement, glanced at Jotham and then at Yates who drew the notebook closer to himself. Chairs scrapped across the floor as the men sat down and waited for Radamsky to continue speaking.

“You have to understand that each of these men became prominent in their own fields of expertise and each of them belonged to a society in their own country that would sponsor them to go on expeditions according to their specialised field. Anataly Sokovich was eminent in his knowledge of herbs, plants and flowers for medical purposes. A dedicated botanist of the highest order.” he paused and glanced over to Yates who looked down at the notebook before he took up from where the Russian had ended.

“Michael Scolley was an archaeologist… I mean … he is an archaeologist. He’s the eldest of the three men and probably their driving force once he had got them together to discuss this particular project. He belonged to several prestigious societies in his field of archaeology, and was the recipient of several notations and awards for his discoveries in Egypt, Africa - where he was involved with the American corps that had made so many discoveries on that continent. His note book indicates that it was while he was in Africa that he first heard of the legend which set him on an expedition some years ago in the Pentanel.”

“That’s where Jefferson met him” Jotham said as Yates leaned back to think over what he had said and what he needed to say later, “Howard Jefferson was a fluent linguist and anthropologist. He was fascinated by the culture and traditions of the native people of the wetlands here. He had learned some of their languages but he wanted to know more. When he met up with Scolley he’d been ill with the dengue fever and was freer with his speech than he should have been, anyway, as it transpires he had heard of the same legend and myths as Scolley and the two men decided to see if there was any truth in them.”

Adam nodded thoughtfully, it was rather a roundabout explanation of events but it filled in some gaps, he looked at Radamsky “So how did Sociologic get involved?”

The Baron had been polishing the lenses of his spectacles slowly as he had listened to the other two men, now he replaced them on his beak of a nose and nodded “He was sent here by our Tsar.”

“Your Tsar - or Gorchakov?” Adam murmured and Radamsky allowed a small smile to pass his lips, he shrugged slightly 

“Are they not one and the same? “ he said cynically and raised his chin as though mentally preparing to take a blow, “we are involved in a war with Turkey, there are other factors to be considered that do not concern anyone here but did influence my Tsar to agree to Sokolovich coming here. If the legend is true then there would be untold riches to bring home to Russia, if they were false, there would still be wealth gained from the information and knowledge of the plant life Sokolovich would discover on this expedition. Either way, he would bring good things to his Tsar that would enhance his name, further his career and give Russia glory.”

Adam raised his eyebrows and said nothing. Standing behind his Captain in a respectful pose Beamish observed all three men and the other men hovering in the shadows. He waited for one of them to speak and it was Yates who did so, “You can have his notebook, Captain. It will give you more information than I can.”

Adam took the notebook with a slight frown, then looked at Jotham who was staring steadily at him as though trying to divine his thoughts, “Well, Jotham, haven’t you anything further to add?”

“Of course.” Jotham nodded and leaned slightly across the table towards Adam, “You have to understand that the three men were leaders in their own field…right?”

“If you say so.” Adam nodded, his thumb flicked the corner of the notebook thoughtfully.

“They knew one another by reputation so it was not surprising that they would actually meet eventually.”

“Who was financing them?”

“They were being sponsored by the various societies they belonged to, the sponsors are wealthy entrepreneurs in their own right, prominent in the commercial world, politics and so forth.” Jotham said and leaned back as though he had said enough

“Botanical societies worldwide gave Sokolovich the backing he needed. There are plants in the Pantanel that can cure so many illnesses that plague mankind today, Captain. Not only botanical societies but pharmaceutical and scientific bodies were interested also.” the Russian spoke with an enthusiasm lacking in the tones of the two other men and he gave a sigh when he finished speaking as though awed by the very mention of the persons he had referred to in his speech.

Adam nodded “So what is this legend?”

“It’s in the notebook,” Yates said quietly, “A legend that involves diamonds and riches that had been garnered by across Bolivia, Brazil, Peru .. Wherever the Spanish and Portuguese had been and whomever they had conquered …” he pursed his lips and stroked his chin, “Of course the Catholic church intervened during the 16th and 17th century and the two countries split their interests, but they wanted to keep the land and they wanted to claim the wealth they had amassed.”

Adam leaned back and shrugged “I see.” he looked at Jotham, “So it’s a treasure hunt really, isn’t it?”

Jotham looked slightly affronted, Yates looked crestfallen and Radamsky contemptuous, Adam just looked from one to the other “Well, isn’t it?”

Yates inclined his body forwards slightly and placed a finger upon the notebook, “He explains it in there. Of course it’s a treasure hunt, why else would the three men with such differing interests join together like this? Whatever they found would go to their countries and benefit them.”

“How many people know about this?” Adam asked in clipped tones as though to signify he was bored already.

“No one knows outside of this room.” Yates replied rather indignantly.

“You mean the Spanish and Portuguese just forgot about this treasure they had left abandoned in the middle of the Pantanal?”

Jotham shrugged “They’ve made no attempt to get it back over the past centuries.”

“Can you be sure of that?” Adam raised his eyebrows, once more his thumb flicked over the corner of the notebook, “There would have been word of mouth reports from men who had existed then and knew of its whereabouts; written reports from the clerks and secretaries of the priests and nobles who lived then; there’s sure to be some interest now merely because of the interest your three countries have shown to the Pantanal recently.”

“I - I don’t think so.” Yates said quietly, “My Government has given me no indication of any Spanish or Portuguese interest.”

“Nor has mine.” Radamsky replied, “Any information would have been followed up much sooner but it was not. Like many conquering countries they abandoned what they had possessed, abandoned or lost it.” he shrugged “The Pantanal is vast and wild, it must have been even more dangerous back then, there were more Indians for a start.”

Yates nodded “That’s true, and they wouldn’t have tolerated being killed off by the Spanish or Portuguese, they would have fought back.”

Adam frowned, he thought of other Indians who had been determined to fight back, and had lost. He sighed, and had to acknowledge that the American prairies lacked the natural dangers of the Pantanal, perhaps these Indians had won after all.

“So what are you three gentlemen here to do? Accompany us into the swamps to find your countrymen? Or sit back here and wait while we go in, risk our necks and bring them back - I presume you want them back?”

“Of course we do.” Yates declared, “They’re as invaluable to us as a mountain of silver.”

Jotham raised his eyebrows and looked directly at Adam, “We have instructions to consult with you, give you the information that we possess and provide you with guides. That’s all.”

Adam nodded, it was what he had expected, but it didn’t exactly please him as he looked at the three of them, and beyond them the men in the shadows “And who are they lurking back there?”

“They are the men who survived the expedition and will be your guides.” Radamsky replied, “Each of them knows the Indian dialect of the tribes you may encounter there. They are also expert in the dangers of the wetlands and animals you will come across.”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon them for a moment and then Yates pushed his chair away from the table and rose to his feet, “I’ll leave you with the notebook, Captain. Thank you for your help. I have to return to England now to report back but shall return here in a month, by which time I hope you will have good news to tell us.” he put out his hand which Adam, rising to his feet in turn, shook.

Radamsky watched the Englishman leave the room, the door closed and he glanced at Adam, Beamish and Jotham, “I think we should have a drink before we part company.”

Jotham shook his head “Not for me, I have too much to think about…” he looked at Adam, “I’ll come along with you, Adam, if you have a mind for company that is ..?”

Adam smiled slowly and then looked across at Radamsky who was frowning rather darkly, “You’re more than welcome, Baron?”

“Niet.” the Russian shook his head, “My orders are to return to Russia. I leave tomorrow.”

He stood up and bowed in a manner very reminiscent of another Russian of whom Adam had fond memories, and then within minutes he was gone. Jotham smiled and shrugged, “Well, I didn’t expect them to stay, neither of them looked the sort who would want to get their hands dirty.”

“You think it will be that kind of trip then, Jotham?” Adam said quietly and with a cynical expression on his face.

“Don’t you?” Jotham replied and glanced swiftly at Beamish before looking straight into Adams eyes, “It isn’t going to be easy.”

“No,” Adam nodded, “No, I think you’re right about that…” he looked at the men still hovering in the shadows “Well, perhaps we should have a chat with these gentlemen and get a better idea of exactly what to expect.”
…………..

Beer and some crude rough wine was brought in along with dark coffee, some refreshments of meat and biscuits were provided and the three naval officers got to work in questioning the several men who had survived the first expedition. Most could barely understand English, so the questioning had to be carried out in halting Portuguese with English thrown in here and there. Slowly a picture was formed of what had occurred, and as Adam had surmised the size of the expedition had been its downfall. It brought too much attention upon them and too much trouble.

So they learned that the Indians in the interior slowly decimated the number until only a few struggled to survive the floods, the rains, the heat and the fevers. When asked about whether the three white men had survived, or were possibly dead, there were differing reports. Several said yes, they had managed to keep alive, friendly natives had cared for them. But there were also the comments made that no, they had died - the Russian first from fever, then the Englishman from a poison dart and the American had been carried off in the floods, last seen attempting to avoid becoming dinner to several alligators.

Beamish was sweating so much by the end of several hours in that claustrophobic room that when Adam declared enough was enough, he almost passed out from sheer relief. Jotham agreed, swallowed down yet another small cup of coffee and told the Brazilian guides to keep waiting for instructions from the Captain who would come next day to speak to them.

They nodded their heads vigorously before grouping together to consult with one another. Beamish had a feeling that they would promptly disappear as soon as he and Adam were gone. Jotham smiled and said “Any room on board for me, Captain?”

“Of course, collect your traps and come along.” Adam replied, “Sooner we leave this hole the better.”

Jotham didn’t like to mention that ’this hole’ had once been the most splendid hotel in the city.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

Alone in his cabin Adam sat at his desk with the notebook of Michael Scolley open before him. It had taken him on a journey that had covered several years of the man’s time consuming search for the truth of a legend he had heard when a young man. A story that had been conveyed by word of mouth from those who had suffered, the native Indians of the Pantanal. 

Generations before the Spanish and Portuguese had sought to subdue to lands that made up the wet lands. They sent in their missionaries and priests to convert the people while their armies plundered and robbed elsewhere and carried their treasures to this hidden location which was to become the equivalent to Mecca or Rome in South America.

It took time to win the trust of some of the people but the religious zealots of the time were perpetually patient and when enough people had been converted they built their missions. The naiveté of the Indians went hand in hand with an natural humility, untainted as they were then by the deviousness of a sophisticated civilisation. They gave more than they received.

A city began to grow and prosper, founded on the stolen treasures of other lands, on gold and silver and diamonds around about them. When they became prosperous enough, and formidable enough to present a problem to the Governments in their home countries the Spanish were told to drive out the Portuguese, and the Portuguese were told to do likewise with the Spanish 

The priests and missionaries attempted to keep this fledgling power united by directing their attention to the native Indians. Perhaps their land would be adequate for another city to flourish. Perhaps the gold and silver and the abundance of flora and fauna would provide prosperity for all.

The deaths that followed were numerous and no one was spared. Adam read the familiar tragedy of villages being wiped out, young and old, babes along with women and old men. Villages razed to the ground. As he read the account he felt as though his heart was weary of reading such words, after all, he had seen those self same words being acted out before his eyes too many times.

The European Governments were not satisfied by this action and turned upon the priests and missionaries for attempting to thwart their authority. What amounted to a small civil war prevailed, those who survived fled into the swamps and were never seen nor heard about again. Others returned to their homelands, or to the parts of Brazil and Bolivia that would accept them as patriots. 

As generations disappeared and were replaced by new, the story of the embryo city with its plunder was passed on by word of mouth by those who were descended from the survivors of the murders and the wars. It was only a small war, it was just a mere few thousand natives, it didn’t merit a mention in any history book, not even in the annuals of their country. 

Scolley heard it however, and he spent time searching for it. Every so often his path would cross that of Jefferson, or Sokolovich. Their names became those he sought out thinking that their combined skills and knowledge would reveal the truth of this strange story.

Was it such a strange story? Adam read on while thinking of the number of Cheyenne, Sioux, and other indigenous peoples of America whose story was only told from the white mans point of view and would, perhaps, eventually never get revealed to the generations to come. He wondered how much interest would be made into the myths surrounding many of these tribes… those of the plains who spoke of a mountain of gold, or those who spoke of rivers yellow with gold dust. 

It caught at his imagination as he thought of the hosts of Spanish conquistadors who had sought El Dorado, the lost cities of gold. Was Scolley thinking of the same thing? Was he believing that this so called city was in fact, El Dorado? 

His eyes grew heavy from lack of sleep and the heat in the room. It was impossible to find anywhere that was cool and refreshing. His head drooped upon his chest and within minutes he slept.
……………

The morning dawned as harshly bright and hot as when the sun had fallen the previous day. Adam had breakfasted and had coffee when Beamish knocked on the cabin door. Upon entering he informed the Captain that there was someone outside who wished to see him. “I think it is one of the guides.” 

“You think?” Adam wiped his mouth on a napkin and stood up, “Ask him inside.”

“He won’t come in. He wants to speak to you outside.”

Adam shrugged and followed the lieutenant to the upper deck. Jotham Morton was already there and turned to acknowledge the Captain before turning to where the guide stood. 

The man was short and stocky with a pot belly that overlapped the leather pouch affair that was his only garment and protected his private areas, he wore a feather through a hole in his ear lobe and bracelets upon his upper arms, his black hair was matted with clay “Do you speak English?” Adam asked slowly after they had both scrutinised the other.

The Indian bowed his head, the spear in his hand was as tall as himself and he held it loosely. Adam had no doubt that he was proficient in its use, as he must have been with the knife that was unsheathed but struck through the throng around his waist that kept the leather cloth intact.

“What do you have to say to me?” Adam now asked looking into the mans near black eyes and wondering what the man would be thinking of all that was now happening and what the results would be for his people..

“I - guide you - I Terena - people Terena.”

The words were guttural and did not sound either friendly or interested. To Adam’s ears the man sounded as though he had come as a duty that had to be performed and carried out. He stood straight shouldered and back rigid, sadly his belly protruded more so as a result.

The ships crew were observing the interchange and obviously finding it amusing. Adam being so tall and broad shouldered almost dwarfed this stout and sturdy naked individual. Giving his men a withering glare Adam returned to observe this guide, “What is your name?”

“You - Captain.” the Terena said and nodded his head in affirmation of his own words.

“I am.”

“Good.” another nod, and then he turned and walked to the side of the ship, he pointed skywards with his lance “When sun sleeps - canoe come - you come.”

Then he was gone and by the time Adam had reached the bulwark of the ship his ‘guide’ was being taken to the shore in a dug out canoe with two younger men paddling with strong strokes of their oars. Jotham approached and stood by Adams side, he smiled.

“You obviously passed inspection, otherwise he would have just gone without a word.”

“Do you know these people?”

“Yes, the Terena tribe are the most peaceful that we know about here. It’s good to have a guide who knows the terrain as well as one of the natives. He’ll probably not tell you his name, they’re superstitious like that …”

“Huh.” Adam grunted and nodded, he knew some Inuit who believed likewise and with a sigh he turned and indicated that Jotham joined him in the study.

“Seems we have to be ready to leave by sunset.” he observed as they took a seat on opposite sides of the desk, “Will you be ready to come with me by then?”

“Certainly. I know the others - Yates and Radamsky - are returning to their respective countries but I anticipated being required to work alongside you. Will you be taking anyone else?”

“No.” Adam shook his head “Beamish will have his orders and take over command until I get back.”

Jotham nodded, he didn’t allow himself to comment on Adam’s statement as to his return, but mentally he did interject an ‘if’ into it. He looked over at the notebook “Did you read it all?”

“Yes, and I’ve checked the sketches and diagrams as well. The route he indicates seems to be ambiguous.”

Jotham allowed a slow smile to spread over his face “Everything is here, Captain. Rivers disappear during the flooding season, tributaries exist that never were there before, the floods retreat and the silt left behind creates new land and new rivers are formed around
It. It changes all the time. The Terena are good people, it would have been better if we had had someone from the Paigaua tribes or Guaicuru, they’re known as the canoe people and know the waterways like you know the Ponderosa.”

Adam passed a hand over his face and shook his head “I hope you aren’t saying we’ve pulled the short straw by having a Terena guide us?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine unless there’s fighting.”

“That dagger and spear looked pretty dangerous to me…” Adam smiled as he leaned against the desk and folded his arms across his chest.

“That’s for protection against wild animals, snakes, alligators… you have to expect anything out there.” Jotham sighed, and then shrugged as though by doing so he could shrug off the experiences he had gone through during the past few weeks when he had ventured out into the bogs. The anaconda’s that were as long as 50 ft and body width thicker than his upper leg, the alligators that slid silently into the water, the spiders ..he shivered and looked at Adam with an attempt of a smile “Just make sure you’re well armed.”
…………
The water was lapping gently against the sides of the Shenandoah as the sun set and total darkness enveloped them. Instructions had been given to Beamish to take the ship to Guanabara Bay where they could liase with other ships from all over the world, to get mail sent by the first ship leaving Brazil for America and to await their return on board within the month.

If Jotham looked at all doubtful about the time limit put on the venture he said nothing. He caught Beamishs’ eye however and raised his eyebrows indicating to the younger officer that it would be wiser to ensure they stayed until their commanding Officer actually did return, however long it may take.

Dressed in loose linen garments the two men scrambled over the side of the ship into the dug out and trusted to the keen eyesight of the Terena to get them safely to the shore. No one spoke. Adam could barely see through the darkness but he could hear Jotham breathing close behind him. His senses took on board that they were travelling swiftly and following the flow of the water, there was barely any wasted energy as the two men rowing plied the oars and within less time than he would have credited, the canoe was nudging into the undergrowth that crowded the shoreline.

“Stay.” the Indian put a hand on Adams arm “Good place sleep.”

Adam leaned forward and Jotham, assuming his Captain was attempting to leave the boat, whispered “Best do as he says, he knows what he’s talking about…”

Adam said nothing, he didn’t like to say that he had cramp and needed to shift slightly to ease it. He settled into a more comfortable position with his few possessions bundled close to his feet in a bedroll. 

He couldn’t sleep at first as his mind sifted through the information he had about this venture. Was he to look for the three men, the so-called lost city or was it just a glorified treasure hunt? If it were the latter why hadYates and Radamsky been so happy to return to their own countries when there could have been untold treasures awaiting them somewhere amid the anaconda’s and alligators? 

He wondered what his father and brothers were doing which led him to think about Olivia and the children, and that made him feel maudlin because it reminded him that he had left an infant son behind with the wife he adored. He shifted again in his seat, no longer plagued by cramp but heart ache and mosquitoes.

 

Chapter 12

The family had enjoyed the meal that Hop Sing had provided and thanked him profusely which always made him feel more than a little proud of his achievements. During the meal Ben had told them about Martha’s story and they had listened attentively with the interest of any who found tales of such kind fascinating and slightly morbid.

“You must have been a bit disappointed that your mystery was explained away so quickly.” Hester said with a smile over at Ben while she helped Hope drink her milk by holding the cup steady for her.

“I was at first,” Ben replied with an answering smile to her own, and his dark eyes twinkled, “But then I thought perhaps it would be interesting to see what had become of Silas Barrington, after all it seemed he was given all the privileges of a white man in a white family, while Martha and her husband were practically left with nothing.”

“That happened a lot though, didn‘t it?” Olivia ventured to say, “There were those plantation owners who were not afraid to acknowledge their illegitimate children, and some were very faithful to their women, even if they did remain married.”

Hester looked at Olivia and frowned, “They weren‘t particularly faithful to their wives though?”

“No, I suppose not.” Olivia sighed and looked at Ben thoughtfully, “So what do you intend to do, Pa? Will you travel to New Jersey to find this Silas?”

“Well, a lots happened since Martha last saw or heard anything about him, there‘s been the war between the states for one thing,” Ben frowned, “That may have had an adverse effect on Barringtons fortunes.”

Hoss shook his head and reached for the coffee pot, “You aint‘ thinking of going to New Jersey though, are ya, Pa?”

“I am thinking about it,” Ben smiled as he replied to Hoss and then looked at Olivia “But whether I will actually travel there to find him, I‘m not sure.”

“He could be dead by now.” Joe observed holding his cup forward for Hoss to fill it with the coffee.

“Or he could have a large family of children, and grandchildren.” Mary Ann smiled and then looked down at Daniel who was trying to grab at another piece of pie, “Oh no, young man, no you don’t, you’ve had more than your fair share.” she whispered to him and Daniel pouted and looked around the table as though hoping that someone, anyone, would take pity on him and feed him some more.

“So the red hair was Martha’s.” Hester smiled, “That is so interesting. I’d heard before that red heads go totally white when they get older. Ah well, Hoss, now you know what to look forward too, soon I’ll be a little white haired old lady…” and she pulled a face that made them laugh which surprised Hannah who looked at her mother and made big eyes at her,

“Mommy you isn’t old, not yet, are you?” 

“Actually,” Ben leaned forward a little and cut some more pie which he put on his plate along with some cream, “Martha Frobisher was a ravishingly lovely woman in her younger days. That red hair of hers caught a lot of mens attention I can assure you.”

“But not yours?” Olivia laughed, her eyes greener than usual because of the green gown she was wearing.

“Well, if anything had happened to Julian I wouldn’t have objected to stepping in and giving the widow a helping hand.” Ben chuckled and began to scoop pie into his mouth.

Hester sighed and looked thoughtfully into space “Just imagine that little girl wandering down the hallway and then finding her father in such a - well - situation with one of his slaves. She must have been shocked.”

“Especially when he started to beat her.” Mary Ann said “What kind of man was he for goodness sake, to do such a thing to a little girl, to his own daughter.”

Nathaniel began to wail which caused Olivia to excuse herself from the table in order to attend to the infant. Reuben and Sofia sat and listened to the adults conversation and wondered what exactly everyone was talking about, eventually Reuben asked where was New Jersey? Sofia added that if it were anywhere near where her daddy was then Gran’pa would be able to see him. That comment caused a slight hiatus while everyone tried to think of something else to say. 
……..

Arthur Armstrong rubbed his jaw thoughtfully before getting to his feet and walking over to a tall metal cabinet, “If I’ve anything pertaining to New Jersey architects there would be some information here, Ben. You’re sure they’re still trading under the name Barrington?”

Ben gave a slight shrug of the shoulders and shook his head “To be honest, Arthur, I can’t say. The only confirmation of it I can give you stops before the war between the states. He or they were architects in New Jersey before then, but I don’t know about afterwards.”

Arthur nodded “I know what you mean, Ben. There were a lot of changes - afterwards.”

Ben said nothing more to that, from the look on Armstrong’s face he had obviously suffered some reverses himself as a result of the war and no doubt preferred to keep whatever it was to himself. He rummaged through the drawers and pulled out one folder which he carried back to the desk, he looked up and shrugged “Not sure if this is the company, but seems we had some dealings with a Messrs Pettifer, Harris and Steward in New Jersey . It was about five years ago.” 

He passed the folder to Ben who flicked through the paperwork without much interest in its contents other than the address printed on the letter heading and the names of the company directors also embossed thereon. He nodded and handed it back “Nothing else?”

“No, I’m sorry, not in New Jersey anyway.” Armstrong frowned and stood up to return the folder to its assigned place in the filing system. “I’ll look through and see if we have any contact with any persons by the name Barrington … Silas Barrington did you say?”

Ben nodded his head and settled back into his chair. Armstrong’s had been the last architect in Virginia City he had visited and to whom he had made the same request. All the other offices had searched through their files and found nothing. It seemed as though Silas Barrington & Co, Architects, no longer existed. He looked up as Armstrong paused in his search and looked over at the rancher “Why not telegraph that company in New Jersey? They’re more than likely know what happened to a local company of architects, wouldn’t they?”

Ben allowed a vague smile to play over his mouth “Yes, I should have thought of that myself. Thank you, Arthur.”

“You’re not thinking of hiring an architect to do some work on the Ponderosa, are you?” Armstrong frowned, “After all, we have our professional reputation to think about here, you know.”

Ben’s smile widened and he shook his head “No, no, nothing like that at all, Arthur. As you know if there was anything like that needed on the Ponderosa I’d ask Adam -” he paused, and sighed, of course, not so easy to do when he was who knew where! “Thanks for your time.”

Arthur nodded as he scribbled down the address of the New Jersey company Pettifer, Harris and Steward which he handed over to Ben, “I hope you find who you’re looking for, Ben.”

“Yes, so do I.” 

He tucked the piece of paper into his jacket pocket, replaced his hat on his head and shook Arthur’s hand. As he left the building he thought back to the time Arthurs father had arrived at the diggings, as they had called the shambles in the Washoe at the time. He had offered Adam a place in his establishment which Adam had turned down, and now, Ben scowled a little, now he wished to high heaven that his son had accepted it.

Within half an hour he had sent the telegraph away to the offices in New Jersey where some nameless unknown would pick it up, maybe throw it away and forget all about it. As Ben strolled over to the International for his lunch, he wondered whether that would be the best thing to do, just forget all about it.

Ann Canaday saw him and hurried to cross the road, picking up her skirts as she did so in order to avoid various unpleasant things that could have ruined her skirts. “Ben? Mr Cartwright?”

Ben paused and removed his hat immediately upon seeing Ann hurrying towards him, her face alight with pleasure “Oh Ben, how lovely to see you here in town.”

“A pleasure to see you too, Ann.” he smiled his charming smile that made most women feel that he had a sincere interest in them, his dark eyes twinkled “How is town life suiting you?”

“Oh very well, thank you.” she sighed and looked smug, as people contented and happy with their lot tended to look when asked such a question. “How are Hester and Olivia? Are the children all well?”

“Everyone’s thriving.”

“I’m so glad, and the baby? Little Nathaniel?”

“Getting fatter by the day.” Ben grinned, his latest grandchild was a joy to him, as much as the others of course, but Nathaniel was his own first born sons and as such, he sighed, “Yes, they are all doing well.”

“I miss seeing them all so regularly.” Ann turned and together they began to walk towards the hotel, “We used to have such great times together.”

“Well, don’t you have great times now?” Ben looked surprised, it seemed to him that Hester was regularly coming into town to visit her cousin so such a complaint appeared rather ungrateful.

“I know, I’m being selfish I suppose. Life just goes by so quickly, doesn’t it?” she sighed again and looked thoughtful, “It’s only after one moves on that what we once had is seen in a more positive light. There’s a lot I miss about the old place, you know, Ben? Town is excellent and I’m happy here, but that doesn’t mean to say that I wasn’t as happy there as well.”

Ben nodded, he understood exactly what she meant …hadn’t Adam expressed exactly those self same thoughts at times? ‘I love being at sea, but then I miss the Ponderosa, and when I’m back home I can’t wait to be back on board ship.’ Ben frowned, of course Adam hadn’t said that kind of thing for some time, not since he had got married in fact. He could only imagine that the sea no longer had that attraction at all.

They parted at the hotel and Ben entered and found a table at which he sat down deep in thought. What strange creatures we were, he mused, never content, always striving for something else and then, when we find it, never satisfied. 

“A nickel for your thoughts, Pa?”

Ben grinned up at his son, Joseph, and beckoned to the chair opposite “Sit down, son. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I saw you come in here and thought I’d join you for something to eat.”

“That’s good, it’s been a while since we ate together, just the two of us.”

“Well,” Joe grinned and looked over to the door where Hoss was talking to Mrs Browne, “The three of us …”

Ben nodded and smiled, he stretched out his long legs and waited for Hoss to join them, and once seated he beckoned the waiter over and they placed their orders. Joe glanced at Hoss before asking Ben what it was he had been thinking about so deeply “You looked as though you had the weight of the world on your shoulders, Pa.”

“Did I? Well, actually I was just thinking how good life had been when I was a chandler back in Boston, and why on earth didn’t I just stay put there instead of going wandering off into the wilderness.” he sighed and picked up his napkin, flicked it open and placed it slowly over his lap, “We’re just so contrary, aren’t we?”

“We are?” Hoss frowned, “How come?”

“Well, there I was happy in Boston …”

“No, you weren’t, Pa. Elizabeth had died and you had Adam and a dream… remember?” Joe nudged his father and again glanced over at Hoss.

“True enough, and it was because of that dream that I embarked upon years of trouble and pain, for myself, for Adam… what kind of man takes an infant into a wilderness? For goodness’ sake, I must have been mad.”

“Well, it paid off alright in the end, Pa, didn’t it?” Hoss said quietly, and offered up a bleak smile.

“It could have been different.” Ben responded, “I was just thinking what would life have been like if I had stayed in Boston, built up that one store … perhaps I would have had a whole chain of them strung along the coastline by now, or owned some ships of my own … who’s to know?”

“No-one, because it didn’t happen.” Joe snapped rather tersely, “And don’t forget, while you would have been playing with your shops and ships back there me an’ Hoss wouldn’t have been born.”

“Yeah, that’s right, Pa. There’s no way you would’ve met my Ma, or Marie…” 

“Hmm,” Ben clamped his lips together in that unmistakeable ‘I’m not entirely satisfied with that’ expression on his face.

“Pa? What’s the matter? Aren’t you happy with your life and how it’s turned out?” Joe asked gently, even placing his hand on his father’s arm in a gentle manner as though to encourage him to get out of the mood he was in.

“Yes, yes, of course I’m happy with life.” Ben smiled, he nodded and he sighed. 

The conversation lulled as the waiter brought the food and the wine and set everything down on the table. Hoss darted an anxious look at his father, “Pa, you ain’t been yourself since you got back from San Francisco. Is t hat old story of Martha’s gitting to you somehow?”

“Yeah, you still thinking of looking for that Barrington family?” Joe added as he toyed with his fork and pushed the food around his plate a little.

“I was thinking of doing so,” Ben replied and looked at the two other men sharply as though expecting some argument, but receiving none he began to eat his meal.

He couldn’t explain it to them, nor to himself, but he wanted to do something different. He just wanted to have someplace else to go, before it was too late and the only time he’d ever leave the Ponderosa again would be in a pine box. He smiled to himself, not that his sons would settle for a pine box for their father, of course….

Chapter 13

For a moment Ben sat astride his horse to look at the house that Adam had had built for himself and his wife. It sat on a good site with views that were as rugged as they were beautiful. The river flowed at a good walking distance away, some trees were showing vigorous growth to the back of the property and the sun shone on the roof top making the shingles gleam.

It was a handsome building and Adam hadn’t strayed too far from the original design of the ranch house in which he and his brothers had been raised. The differences were obvious however, and Ben had to admit they were advantageous and attractive but evenso it still was not the Pondereosa. With a wry grin he dismounted and after securing the reins to the rail he approached the house.

He knocked and paused for a moment to think over what he was going to say but by the time he had pushed the door open, walked through the porch and opened the interior door he had got it jumbled up with other matters on his mind. He removed his hat and scratched his head thoughtfully before looking around the room for a sign of his daughter in law.

Olivia was helping Sofia to write, guiding the childs hand carefully over the paper. Both of them looked up and smiled at the visitor, “Look, Granpa, I’m writing a letter to daddy.”

“Well done, I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to get it.” Ben replied and smiled at Olivia who was looking proudly over at him above the childs head. “Are you both well today?”

“I am,” Sofia said as she clambered down from the seat to receive a hug from him for she loved him dearly, had done since she first saw him. “Reuben didn’t want to go to school he said he had tummy ache.”

“It’s nothing,” Olivia assured him as she put the pencil and paper to one side, “He just didn’t want to go to school because the essay he prepared isn’t as good as he had hoped it would be. I’ll ask Cheng to bring in some coffee.”

He watched her as she made her way to the kitchen and once again found himself admiring the way she held herself, her head high, slender and slim, her pale blonde hair coiled into a crown on her head. He smiled and turned his attention to Sofia who was holding onto his hand and leading him to the chair he favoured “I’m going to school soon. Mommy said that I was so growed up I need an ed-u-chason.”

“Mmm, well, I think she’ll miss you around here, Sofia.”

“I know, but she has Nathaniel to look after now, and I have to learn how to do math and how to read big books so that I can help her and daddy when he gets back home.”

“He’ll be back soon.” he assured her and patted her shoulder as she leaned heavily against his knees, her chin resting in her hands and her elbows digging rather uncomfortably into the flesh of his thighs.

“He’s bin gone a long time already.” she sighed, “January 10th he left here and now its April 12th 1877. That’s a long time.”

“I suppose it is, but he has a lot of travelling to do, you know.” he smiled and looked into her eyes that gazed earnestly up at him.

She was a pretty little girl, always had been since he had first seen her when she was just three years old. He could tell that when she grew up she would be a stunning looking woman and he pitied the young fellows in town then for without doubt she was going to break many a heart. “So how is your baby brother, Sofee?”

“He’s alright. He doesn’t do much yet, he’s just a baby after all.” she sighed, babies were boring. 

“He doesn’t wake you up at night crying does he?”

“No, he only wakes mommy up.” Sofia said matter of factly and then stepped away from him and returned to the table as Olivia came into the room carrying a tray which she set down on the low table by the fire.

Coffee was poured out and lemonade given to Sofia who asked if she could go and play with her dolls now? Both adults watched her as she ran from the room with arms full of dolls, they heard the outer door close and turned to smile fondly at one another. Ben took a long sip of coffee and nodded “Good coffee, Olivia.”

“Chengs an expert, I think, although I wouldn’t tell him so, that he is even better than Hop Sing.”

“Well, I can recall a time when Hop Sing was away from the Ponderosa and we had his nephew No. 1 stay, my goodness, what a mess he made of everything.” he chuckled then at the memory, life, it seemed, was full of memories nowadays.

“What’s worrying you, Ben?” she asked now, setting the cup down upon its saucer and looking straight at him with her disconcerting green eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

He said nothing for a moment and the cup held in his hand hovered by his mouth, he took several sips of the hot coffee and then smiled “You’re very discerning, Olivia.”

“That’s because I care about you, Ben. If one cares about someone then they should notice such things, shouldn’t they?”

“Yes, of course.” he cleared his throat and after looking at her more intently, as though to fathom out her thoughts, he swallowed more of the coffee before setting the cup down. “The fact is, Olivia, I’m getting old.”

She nodded, she could have said that she was 24 hours older that she was the previous day, but she held her tongue and just nodded, and waited.

“You see, when I was a young man I could ride a horse from one place to another, or hitch a wagon to my horses and travel across the continent, or board a clipper ship to take me anywhere I wished. I lived during a time when there was always danger, and even if I was foolhardy enough to take myself into those situations where I feared for my life every moment, at least I knew I was alive, and I lived life…do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes, I understand. No one could deny the courage and strength of character it took to build the Ponderosa to what it is now, Ben.”

He watched as she poured out more coffee and handed him back his cup, which he took and held gently in his big work worn hands. She held hers carefully as though at any moment it would break. 

“I visited Roy the other day.” Ben said quietly, “I knew him when he was a circuit lawman. That means he travelled from one settlement to another, stayed a few months to try and instil some law and order before moving on elsewhere… finally he came to be our resident sheriff. All those years working to maintain our safety in town, getting shot at, injured, all for our good. Now what is he? Just an old man trying to find something to do that gives him a purpose in life.”

She leaned towards him, her face earnest “Ben, you can’t compare yourself with Roy. Your life is far more involved that his and your work isn’t something you can retire from, not like Roy had to do.”

“I know. I know.” he nodded as though to assure her that that wasn’t the problem, “It was just unsettling, because, well, life is changing. I read about inventions that are taking place now that will revolutionise society and I wish that it would never happen. I want to stop this so called progress which is ridiculous really considering how hard I pushed for it when I was younger.”

“Ben, you have so much work to do here still. We all need you as much as we ever did, your direction and experience and strength are as necessary now as they ever were, surely you realise that?”

He said nothing but drank the coffee before setting the cup down on the low table, then he nodded “I wish with all these inventions they’d find some way of holding back time.”

She laughed softly and nodded “Oh yes, so do I.” they smiled at one another in a companionable manner “Has this something to do with that note of Martha’s?”

“I suppose it is really. Ever since I found it I’ve been curious about the family, it’s intrigued me.”

“But why? It’s Martha’s family, not yours.”

“I know that, Olivia. In fact, after all this time of not being interested Martha has asked me to find out what I can. My finding that letter brought back a lot of memories and aroused her interest. Of course, Julian would rather not be involved, he has prejudices of his own - not because of colour or class, but because of the way Henry Barrington treated his daughter by disinheriting her and favouring his illegitimate son.”

“So what, in effect, do you want to do about it?”

“Once I know where they are I want to go and -” he paused, and shrugged “I suppose I just want to see how they’ve turned out so that I can tell Martha and she can follow on from there.”

“But surely it is her business, I mean, she could hire a Pinkerton Agent to do all that.”

“I know.” he smiled, his generous mouth stretched across his teeth in that impossibly wide smile that she loved, and the black eyes twinkled, “I know all that, but I thought it would be something different to do, some kind of adventure.”

“Oh Pa, are you so bored with life here that you need adventure?” she sighed and shook her head, a curl of pale blonde hair loosened and fell across her cheek which she brushed impatiently away. 

“Where do you think Adam got his taste for it? Hmm?” he chuckled and sat back against the settee, “I don’t know when I’ll go, I’ve contacted a firm of architects in New Jersey in the hope that they’ll be able to give me a clue, but I was wondering if you would do something for me when I’m away?”

“Certainly, if I can you know that I will.” 

“Would you either move in with Mary Ann, take Cheng Ho Lee to help out of course. The spring round up’s due to take place soon, and if I’m away for any length of time, I wouldn’t want to think that the three of you are rattling around these houses alone, apart from the children of course. With Candy leaving …”

“But don’t you see, Pa, with Candy gone we need you here more than ever. Joe and Hoss can’t be in two places at one time. Someone will have to stay here and run things if they go on the cattle drive together.”

Ben nodded, then smiled slowly, “I know. But will you consider doing that for me?” 

He stood up, he was a tall well built man still, and looked down at her as she stood by his side so slim and slender, “Of course I will, Ben, but I’d rather you didn’t leave us on this venture, I don’t like the thought of you being so far away without one of the boys with you.”

He kissed her brow and walked to the bureau where he picked up his hat “Well, as you know, the boys can’t be in two places at the one time.” 

A slight frown furrowed her brow and she shook her head, then slipped her arm through his and walked along with him out into the yard to where his horse was nodding in the sunlight. He paused “You must be missing Adam very much.”

“Yes, I am. It’s the not knowing where he is, or what’s happening that worries me most. I find it hard to sleep at night trying to imagine where he is and what he is doing. it’s a good thing I have Nathaniel to care for …” she stopped then and turned her head away as though unwilling for him to see the sudden tears in her eyes, but he squeezed her arm and nodded, after all, he had the self same fears himself and had had them for years.

 

 

Chapter 14

Jotham startled awake as he felt his shoulder being roughly shaken and his name whispered urgently in his ear. He groaned a little and turned onto his back, then used his elbows to get into a sitting position. “Jotham?”

“Yes, Captain?” 

Adam sat back a little now that he had finally roused the man from what was a deep sleep, something he envied him, but which had proved annoying when unable to wake him “Jotham, how much do you trust those men?”

“Who? What men?” Jotham yawned, blinked and waved away several mosquitoes.

“The Russian and Yates of course.”

“I - er - took them on trust, sir. Does your question mean that you don’t trust them?”

“Humph, no.” Adam snorted contemptuously, “I don’t know who Yates was trying to fool when he said he’d was going to England and would be back in a months time! And Radamsky …” he paused and narrowed his eyes. Speckles of moonlight glimmered down through the foliage and created patterns over their faces, “I don’t know enough about what’s going on and it bothers me, especially when I know those men were lying to me. Jotham, surely you got to know a bit more about whats going on while you were with them?” 

“I - er - I wasn’t with them very long, sir. Only the day prior to your arriving in fact.”

Adam blnked, scowled and shook his head “I was under the impression that you had been there longer. How long had they been there?”

“Radamsky said he had arrived a few days before Yates, and he’d been there a week. They had spent time looking for the survivors and interviewing them, and getting guides arranged for this trip.”

Adam nodded then and stared at Jotham who felt rather disconcerted “I’m sorry, sir, I thought you realised that I had only been sent there a little sooner than yourself.”

“It’s odd.” the Captain said simply, “Odd that knowing you would be there you weren’t sent along with us as part of ships company on the Shenandoah. Why send you on a different ship so close to the time of my arrival.”

Jotham paused a moment then shrugged “I was sent from my posting in Washington. When I got my orders to get here and join you it would have delayed things considerably if I had been sent to join you on the Shenandoah.”

Adam said nothing to that but looked at him intently as though this presented yet another problem to worry over. He narrowed his eyes and the frown deepened “Why send you then?”

“I don’t know, Captain. The same reason why they decided to send you I suppose. I’m just an officer in the services as you are, and I obey my orders without asking too many questions.”

He said this with a touch of bravado in his voice as though to remind Adam that he also should be obeying orders without asking too many questions. He raised his chin and the dappled light overhead played shadows over his face. “I sometimes forget that you’re Daniel’s cousin.” Adam said quietly

“There’s no need to recall it to mind too readily nor too often, sir. I’m not Daniel O’Brien after all.”

“No, sir, you’re not.” Adam agreed with a slight nod and he turned away from the other man as though he were disappointed not only in the fact that it was not Daniel O’Brien to whom he was speaking, but that Jotham’s comments were not those he wanted to hear.

“Where’s the guide? The other men?” Jotham now whispered as though only now realising that the two of them were along in the boat.

Adam shrugged “They’re sleeping on the beach. They obviously thought we would prefer having something more substantial to sleep in, something that keeps us out of reach of the alligators.”

“Darn, I’d forgotten about them.” Jotham hissed and glanced anxiously around him but in the areas where the alligators lingered light from above couldn’t penetrate.

“I thought you were an authority on this place.” Adam said with a slight smile which he didn’t attempt to conceal, “You seemed to know a lot about the native Indians around here.”

“I studied up about them.” Jotham replied, “And I was here last year.” he paused, “Perhaps that’s why they ordered me back, although I was dealing more with the Ipica then.” he settled himself into a more comfortable position “I don’t think we’ll find those men anyway.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling I’ve got.” Jotham yawned, “Last year the man with whom I was assigned to work with went into the interior with an Ipica guide, and neither of them came back. It was as though the jungle just swallowed them up. It does that, you know? People go into it, and you never see them again. It’s beautiful, but it’s terrible, really terrible at the same time.”

“Why were you assigned here last year?” Adam asked and he leaned forward in order to see Jotham’s face more clearly. “Would it have anything to do with Jefferson?”

“Not that I’m aware of it. It was merely a reconnaissance …” he paused and frowned, “I was told it was just reconnaissance into the interior to locate the Paiagua Indians. The officer who was assigned with me and who disappeared had been here before, he seemed to know what he was doing and had a lot of respect for the Indians here. He said that there were tribes deep in the interior no one even knew about, hidden away so deep that no one ever sees them. He was the one who told me most of what I know of people and things around here.” he paused and sighed “He was a good man, a good officer.”

“Would I have known him?”

“I don’t think so, sir. He served in a different branch of the navy to you. His name was Francis Yelland.”

Adam rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and then looked at Jotham again, “No, I never heard of him” he sighed and turned away, “Try and get some sleep, Jotham.”

“Yes, sir.” 
Adam settled himself in the bottom of the boat. It was not the most uncomfortable place in which to sleep for the dug outs were flat bottomed and quite dry and far better than some places he’d slept. He used his kit for a pillow and lay down, closed his eyes and tried to think over everything, every detail, of what he had been told by the three men since he had arrived.

Radamsky, a Russian aristocrat, paid by Gorchakov no doubt to locate Sokolovich, a famed botanist. But now given the opportunity to join forces with himself and Jotham Morton, had seemed to have lost interest and taken himself off somewhere.

Yates, English, with possession of Scolley’s notebook. Scolley who had been the instigator behind the collaboration of the original three men to investigate this fabled city, diamond mine or whatever it really was they were after. A nervous man was Mark Yates, yet he’d lied, must have lied, by claiming he was going to England and would be back in a month. Why would he even think of going to England when he’d been sent by his Government to locate Scolley?

Jotham .. Ah, now, that was a puzzle … what was that reconnaissance expedition been about last year? Was it before or after he had been to Virginia City and assisted with the Russians who had been sent to assassinate one Adam Cartwright? 

Why? Why? Why? Adam Cartwright fell asleep knowing that he now had more questions left unanswered than before and the fact that he slept at all was mainly due to the heat having left him exhausted.

Jotham Morton found it harder to get to sleep. He had known and admired Adam Cartwright for some years now, not only because the man had been such a loyal and close friend to Daniel O’Brien, Jotham’s cousin, but because he had several times saved his life and was a man of integrity. If he were asked who it was he would most choose to be like he would have said “Commodore Adam Cartwright.” At the same time he accepted the fact that Adam Cartwright would never respect or admire him as much as he had Daniel. He knew and understood that he lacked his cousin’s intelligence, perhaps even his courage.

The questions Adam had asked him, for instance, were questions that he had never thought to ask himself. He accepted his orders and carried them out as best he could, whatever wrinkles appeared during the course of those orders being dealt with he never allowed himself to worry about unduly. Perhaps that was another aspect of his personality that was unlike his cousins, Daniel did ask questions and wasn’t afraid to go in search of the answers.

The mosquitoes kept coming, buzzing about their heads, he pulled his sleeves down to cover his hands and then burrowed down into the bottom of the boat in the hope that they would leave him alone. They didn’t, and he spent a while slapping at them as they landed on his skin. When he finally fell asleep it was a mere few hours before dawn.
The Terena Indian and the two other men appeared as the sun streaked the sky. Jotham was mortified to find that the Captain was already up, out of the boat and had actually shaved and washed. Food was provided which looked pale and unappetising but which they ate and washed down with some kind of beer. Drinking water was not available, it would have been unsafe to drink even if it had been.

They settled into the boat and pushed away from the shore. Large logs that lined the rivers edge suddenly slipped from the shore to seemingly glide through the water behind them. Adam watched six of them slowly submerge with only their nostrils and eyes in view, he forced himself not to think about them, but had to admit that he felt unnerved by the stealthiness in which they followed their prey.

“Jacare…” one of the men, seated in front of Adam said and pointed to a particularly large brute that had slowly lowered itself into the water and pushed itself forwards as though determined to keep them within its sights. 

Adam glanced over his shoulder and noticed the eyes protruding from the black waters. A shiver crept down his spine and he wished that he had at least a paddle to grab hold of for protection. The man who had spoken was called Luis, he was native born Brazilian and Pantaneiro. He had been one of the survivors of the original party and had testified to the fact that the three men were still alive. It had made sense to hire the men who had declared this to be a fact as it gave the edge on those who swore they had all died. Somehow it all made sense in a rather senseless situation.

The other man was called Pele, a less talkative man, although Adam had not heard either of them speak much. Pele was also a native of the land and older than Luis. He pointed now to the water and Adam glanced down, seeing only an immense blackness “Piranha! Little fish. Big teeth.”

Adam knew all about piranha as did Jotham who closed his eyes and said a silent prayer that this trip was going to turn out successful even if neither of them knew exactly what it was all about just now. Pele grinned, what teeth had had remaining flashed in what light came through the thickly verdant foliage. He had enjoyed the moment and plied himself to the rowing.

The oars kicked back against the water as the two men pushed them strongly back and forth. Adam looked for some sign of the jacare and noticed, with relief, that it was waddling back to the shore. 

His thoughts drifted back to other trips, the beauty of the Alaska landscape even though it had been freezing cold. He could recall going onto the snow laden decks to observe the aurora borealis and as he glanced up now through the dense trees knew for a certainty that he’d see no such beauty here. He recalled the excitement of the men when a pod of whales would appear swimming ahead of them, creating huge waves that made the ship bounce upon them. All they could boast about here were piranha, horrible little fish that hunted in packs and could strip a horse down to the bone within minutes.

He closed his eyes …what, he thought, what on earth was he doing here!

Chapter 15

Pedro Alvares Cabral had been the first European to step foot in Brazil. He was Portuguese and the year was 1500, exactly 377 years previous to Adam Cartwrights arrival. Not that Adam derived any satisfaction from that point but as they slid along the Paraguay river this particular April day he wondered what it must have felt like to have been the first man to step onto such virgin soil.

What had Cabral expected to find? When he had stood on t he coast of Bahia that April day in 1500 and gazed about the wild untamed land all around him did he think it would ever be tamed? Would he or did he anticipate the discovery of gold or silver - or diamonds?

At that time there were over 5 million Indians that they were aware of now, and an estimated nine hundred tribes. Adam knew, and didn’t need the books to tell him, that number had been decimated. He knew because it seemed that ‘civilisation’ seemed determined to seek out and destroy any culture that it deemed alien to itself.

His thoughts tumbled one over the other as mile by mile they were taken down the river, two American naval officers, a Terino Indian, and two Brazilians who Adam didn’t trust for a moment. 

Behind him Jotham was watching the rhythmic motion of the oars as Luis and Pele dipped them into the waters. He thought that the two men would more than likely cut their throats one night, throw their bodies into the river for the piranha and alligators to eat. No doubt the men they sought had been despatched in just such a way. He wondered why he had decided to join Adam in this search.

He leaned back slightly and stretched out his legs. There was only so much heat a man could stand, only so many mosquito attacks before one felt totally exhausted. He longed for a drink of cold water or some cerveja, anything to slake his thirst. He closed his eyes and wondered if they would survive the trip, if perhaps the mosquitoes would finish them off before Luis or Pele would take their machetes to them.

At mid-day the men rowed the boat to shore, where they all clambered out, batted away a cloud of mosquitoes, found their own particular place to relieve themselves and then returned to where the Indian waited. Pele nodded “Vou culinary,” he said authoritively and Luis shrugged, walked to the boat and pulled out a sack containing some food. Pele had appointed himself chef for the day.

Adam chewed the food mechanically and thought of the slaughter the native Indians had endured over the past 377 years. Diseases killed off as many as warfare, slavery, and murder. Priests burned them at the stake as heretics, pagans and devils. It seemed nothing they did could end the scourge of white mans domination over them. It was a story written through history, in blood, of countless hundreds of races.

He looked at the Terino Indian and wondered what he was thinking, what was going on behind those blank features and black glittering eyes. He turned his attention upon Pele and Luis, laughing together, quietly whispering and nodding . He then sat down beside Jotham who glanced at him and shook his head “To be honest, sir, I’m regretting coming.”

Adam merely smiled, a twitch of the lips and concentrated on eating the food. He would have liked to have said ’To be honest, Jotham, so am I.’ but that wouldn’t have been good for morale. 

One of the surprising aspects of the Paraguay river were the number of subsidiary rivers that flowed from it. Having just gone through the rainy season these rivers were wider than usual, flooding over the land that existed like so many islands, then as the waters receded the islands would re-emerge, some larger than previously, others smaller. Silt would build up on some, while soil was eroded from others.

They had returned to the boat and Adam said he would like to take over one of the oars or paddles in order to do something other than just sit and think. It didn’t take long for him to realise that paddling with the oar along this particular river was mind numbingly tedious, created more sweat and still gave him too much time to think.

After a while even the sight of the alligators sliding in to investigate their boat held no threat. He paddled on until the Terina signalled time to make camp. Pele and Luis clambered out and began to talk, out of ear shot of the Americans, which made Jotham suspect they were planning whereabouts to kill them, and re-enforced Adams distrust of them.

The ground was dry from the rains and after a meal of maize and some meat, dry bread and biscuit, Jotham and Adam found their place to bed down for the night. Jotham slapped a few mosquitoes and sat down on a log beside the Captain while his eyes lingered upon their three companions. The Brazilians were talking among themselves and laughing as was usual, swigging from a bottle which they shared among themselves. The Indian sat alone as silent and stationary as a statue.

“Captain, I’m wondering if we’re doing the right thing in trusting these guys.”

Adam frowned, beads of sweat got trapped in the furrows upon his brow, he wiped them away with his sleeve, “We have no choice but to trust them, Jotham.”

“Do you know where they’re taking us?”

“To the last known location of the three men we’re looking for.” Adam replied quietly, “They’re the only ones who’d know as they swore blind that all three were alive when they left them.”

“Yeah, but why did they leave them behind?” Jotham hissed and Adam looked at him in surprise and shook his head,

“That’s the sort of question you should have asked them when you had the chance, Jotham. You were with Yates and Radamsky when they were interviewed weren’t you?”

Jotham bit his bottom lip and chewed on it a while, he shook his head, “I was there, but everything was a muddle, Yates and Radamsky were arguing among themselves more than interrogating them.”

“Then you should have exercised your authority and insisted on finding out these things, Lieutenant”

Jotham withered slightly at the irritation in Adam’s voice. Had Joe or Hoss been there they would have told him that he was fortunate to have had such a lenient ‘scolding’, after all, their brother was hot, sticky, sweating, uncomfortable, hungry, tired, frustrated and a lot of other things that would have had him yelling fit to bust at them by now. Adam turned away from the younger man and looked over at Pele and Luis, he stood up and walked towards them. 

“Pele? Luis?”

They were immediately silent, their playful laughter between themselves vanished as Adam beckoned to them to draw near. They approached in a humbler fashion than they had previously shown, perhaps the fact that the American had done some of the work himself that afternoon encouraged them to think he was worth respecting.

“Tell me about the men you left behind.” Adam asked, “The Russian - was he a good man?”

“Yes, very good man.” Pele nodded and looked at Luis who nodded along with his companion.

“He was alive when you last saw him?”

“Very much. Very happy to be alive. He collect plants in little bag.” Pele said.

“No, he collect plants in big bag.” Luis corrected his companion, “A big bag. He say very good plants, make good medicine.”

“What about the Englishman, Scolley?” 

The two men looked at one another, Luis lifted he bottle and shook it “He like drink.”

Pele shrugged “Always.”

“Always drinking? He was drunk all the time?” Adam frowned, “Was he not a good man too?”

“When drinking - no drink, always angry.” Luis looked at Pele and muttered something, to which Pele agreed before saying “Is true, angry man. Drunk - good man.”

Adam grimaced and shrugged, shook his head and looked at t hem both “He was alive when you left him?”

“Very much always, sir.” Pele said.

“And the American? What was he like?”

The two men looked at one another, Pele rolled his eyes “Get sick. Leave in Fazenda, big place.”

“Sick with what?” Adam asked and wondered why on earth no one had mentioned this before now. Had Yates or Radamsky any knowledge of this, or, come to that, any interest?

“Bad fever. Very sick. Jaquetta take care of him.” Pele said thoughtfully, he stared down at the ground as though to concentrate, “We take him with us later. He very weak.”

“So he died?” Adam looked at them both but they shook their heads vehemently, and denied that any of them had died.

“So tell me exactly what did happen? Why did you leave them?”

They stood in silence for a moment, then Luis said something in his local dialect to Pele, there was a brief discussion before he turned to Adam “We tell this to those others, they tell you - no?”

“No.” Adam replied shortly and raised his eyebrows, “Just tell me what you know.”

Another altercation and this time Pele cleared his throat “We travel far into jungle. The Russian man always finding things he has to write down in little book -”

“And put in bag.” Luis nodded.

“Scolley angry with him, says they - not fast - he keep them slow.” Pele frowned and shrugged “Rains came, storms with black clouds, everywhere very bad, very wet. Boats overturn. Jacare attack one night, take two men.”

“Two men.” Luis nodded and frowned, he sighed “My brother, Javir.” he tapped his chest, it obviously still pained him to think about it and Adam felt a pang of sympathy for him.

“Much rain. We leave boats. Walk. Walk long time.”

“Raining, flooding. Too much water. We find fazenda and stay but not long before we leave. All have to leave, fazenda flooded and vaca we help take high ground. More men go.”

“Killed? Drowned?” Adam queried and he glanced from one to the other, “Do you mean they just left you?”

“Yes, leave us. They go.” Pele made hand signs to indicate the speed at which the men left, they obviously had no intention of hanging around to drown there although there were no guarantees that the flood waters didn’t get them elsewhere..

“When rain stop we walk on. But then Indians attack us. Very bad time.” Luis was the more excitable of the two, he looked nervously over at the Terina Indian who was squatting by the small camp fire. “Men fall, dead - quick. Poison -” he shivered and rolled his eyes, he was obviously scared stiff at the memory and Adam had the distinct impression that when they reached the area of the attack it would be a case of goodbye Luis.

“Did you leave them then? The three white men, did you leave them?” 

Pele spread out his hands, palm upwards, in a gesture of appeal “No more for us to do, we ran. We hide. Leave or die.”

“So how do you know that the white men didn’t get killed as well?” Adam now asked and looked at them both, “Was there no talking, no parley between them and the Indians before the attack?”

The Brazilians looked puzzled, they frowned, looked at one another and shook their heads. “So the Indians attacked, killed a lot of your men, you ran and left them to their fate. You don’t actually know if they’re alive or dead, do you?”

Luis gulped and his eyes darted back and forth, from Pele to Adam and back again. Pele scratched his neck “We know where they were, we know where they were attacked. Is good idea to go there and see, yes?”

Adam just stared at them. The whole thing was inconclusive and as intangible as ever. He nodded and then turned back to Jotham.

“What did they say, sir?” Jotham asked, “I couldn’t hear a word that you were all saying.”

Adam opened his mouth, closed it again and slapped several mosquitoes dead… then he looked at his companion and shrugged “Nothing worth knowing. We should come across some ranch or homestead soon, they may know something that those two idiots don’t.”

Jotham thought to ask something and then decided it wasn’t worth it, the Captain was obviously not in the temper to answer banal questions.

 

 

Chapter 16

The sound of a baby crying woke Ben Cartwright from a light sleep. For a moment it was a struggle to open his eyes, but the crying continued for some while and he had to force himself to remember that little Hope was teething or perhaps had had a bad dream. She was not yet a year old and a more sensitive little soul than her big sister, Hannah.

He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. With a sigh he intertwined his arms behind his head and rested his head upon them while he stared up at the shadows that wreathed the ceiling above. He recalled his conversation with Paul Martin earlier that day, and how his friends complacent attitude to how Ben felt had nearly awarded him a box on the ears. Ben sighed and waited for the crying to stop, which it did, fading away with a long drawn out wail.

“Why am I feeling like this? So restless and irritated all the time, as though waiting for something to happen in my life but not knowing exactly what, or whether it is going to be for good or bad. 

“Life has changed so much that’s the problem. Yet what did I want to achieve in life anyway ? Wasn’t it all this that I have now? Wealth, the ranch, my boys settled and happy.”

He sighed then, and scrunched up his eyes, then shook his head as he told himself that one of his boys wasn’t happy, not that he knew it for sure, because the ‘boy’ himself wasn’t there to tell him. But Ben reasoned, how could he be happy so far from family and the Ponderosa.

“I’m being illogical now,” he told himself, “Ascribing to Adam the very opposite of how I’m feeling. Expecting that he’s unhappy where he is, doing something that he chose to do for himself all those years ago, and here I am safe and sound in the heart and soul of my family and longing to be somewhere else.

“What’s wrong with me? Am I being selfish to be thinking like this? Most men would give their eyes to have what I possess. What man wouldn’t want to be surrounded by grandchildren and their sons and their wives … knowing that they are safe, healthy, and even wealthy. Ah, I wish, I wish I could just feel … content. Content? I should be more than just content, after all, every dream I longed to fulfill, has been achieved. It has been, yes, and more so than I ever anticipated.

“But I’m not content. Perhaps I would be if I had Roys temperment or Pauls.. .. But then Paul has a new wife, and he’s busy in town doing what he loves with her by his side. And as for Roy, well, he’s retired and he’s living out his life like so many old men who have nothing else to do but sit and think, eat whats put in front of them and just wait. For what? Death? Senility?

“I wouldn’t wish that for Roy, not for anyone. But it happens, and I don’t want it to happen to me. Time flies by so quickly that before one knows it life is over, all over. I want to hold onto life for a bit longer. After all I’m not that old …” Ben paused a moment to calculate exactly how old he was and he sighed, shook his head making the pillows rustle as a result “Guess I’m old enough to start believing it! Darn, if it weren’t for the occasional flare up of gout, and a bit of arthritis in my hands and arms, I think I could pass as much younger. I don’t think I’ve aged so bad really … and I’m not bald, got most of my teeth. 

“Fact is, I’m feeling sorry for myself. I don’t want to let go of what I’ve known in the past. Darn it, my boys are middle aged, even Joe …and they can run this ranch without me, with both hands tied behind their backs. No, they don’t really need me here anymore, and I guess that’s the rub, I’m the old man and I want to be able to tell them what to do like I used to, instead of how it is now.

“Let me see, what options do I have? If this guy Silas Barrington is still in New Jersey, that’s going to be a pretty long journey. Cattle drive is due, and Candy isn’t here anymore to help, nor is Adam. Darn Adam , he should be here helping out not sailing around the world. Why do I feel this compulsion to go tracking down this Barrington? Martha couldn’t really care less about him, or his family, if he has any. 

“On the other hand, I could get me a ship to England and visit the Dunsfords. Marion and Beatrice wrote only the other day - no, the other month - inviting me to stay over there. Never did get back to them after that visit they made here, not that that was really much of a success, mmm, Beatrice sure opened up a can of worms with her behaviour. Adam deserved -" he yawned and blinked, rubbed his face and sat up. 

The house was in silence now, apart from its habitual wheezing and creaking. There was barely a whisper of a breeze from outside. He got out of bed and thrust his feet into his slippers. As he tied the belt to his dressing gown Ben allowed himself to dwell on the visit of the Dunsfords from all that time ago. Things have changed, he told himself, even since then.

………….

Reuben Phillips Cartwright rolled over in his bed and listened to the sound of his brother crying. The house was silent apart from the baby’s wailing and he frowned as he recalled the times when he would wake up and it was just quiet, maybe the wind would be blowing or the pattering of rain against the glass. Sometimes he would wake up to hear his parents talking, their voices drifting up the stairs and so reassuring and comforting to the little boy trying to sleep.

He yawned and was wondering if the baby was ill when its crying was stopped. He knew then that Olivia had got up and would now be taking Nathaniel from his crib and into her own bed, and she would feed him there. He sighed, he could barely remember the times when Sofia was a baby and would wake him up. It was all a long time ago.

The door of his room creaked and he glanced over to see the outline of his sister in the doorway, holding her night light carefully so that it didn’t smoke too much. 

“Reuben, that baby’s crying, and I woked up.”

He sighed and moved a little over to the side of the bed to make way for her, he wanted to keep his feet as far away from hers as possible, she always had cold feet and they made him shiver if they touched him. She put the night light down on the table and slipped in by his side, sighed contentedly and whispered that ‘that baby’ was always crying.

“No, it ain’t.” Reuben said defensively, “It’s because he’s getting teeth. Ma said he was teething.”

“Well, I didn’t cry all the time when I had my teeth.”

“Yes, you did.” he frowned, as if she would remember anyway. He couldn’t recall crying when he had his teeth growing either but he sure didn’t like the fact that they were falling out now, and sometimes it hurt when the new ones came through. He tried to imagine what it would feel like for a little baby.

“I wish Daddy were here.” Sofia said, “Do you think he’ll be home soon?”

“Uncle Joe said he would be, I asked him today, and he said probably next week.”

“He said that last time you asked.” Sofia replied drowsily.

“No, he didn’t.”

“He did, I was there, I heard him say it.” and Sofia put her thumb in her mouth and remembered how excited she had felt at the thought of Daddy coming home and as the week had gone on how unhappy as the hope had withered with each day. “They don’t even know where he is…”

“That’s because it’s a secret mission, that’s why. I asked Granpa and he said it was secret, see?”

“Why? Why does it have to be secret?”

“How’d I know? I’m only a kid, they ain’t likely to tell me are they?”

“Why not?”

Reuben scowled, and fidgeted to get more comfortable, as usual she was taking up most of the bed. “Go back to your own bed, Sofia.”

“No, don’t want to.” she whispered and cuddled in closer to him, “Mommy misses him too.”

“Of course she does, that’s why she’s his wife.” he yawned, he was tired and he wanted to go to sleep. “Aunt Hester misses Uncle Hoss when he goes away, and so does Aunty Mary Ann.”

Sofia said nothing to that, she thought that her brother didn’t really understand what she meant, there were different kinds of missing but she remembered that Aunty Hester had told her that men didn’t always see things the same as women, and Rueben, she was sorry to admit even to herself, was one day going to be a man.

Reuben knew when his sister had fallen asleep, her breathing was heavier and sometimes she gave a little snort. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep as well but something was bothering him “When I get to school on Monday I’m going to thump that blooming Leslie Downing. He didn’t have any right to say those things about Nathaniel. He weren’t right. Pa and Ma said that I was as much a Cartwright as Nathaniel, and so is Sofia. That’s what they said, they did too.

“That Mr Downing didn’t have no right to tell Leslie that if Pa didn’t come back from sea Nathaniel would inherit the Ponderosa because he was the real son … the heir he said … that’s stupid, stupid. I’ll show him, I’ll show that Leslie Downing I will …”

He yawned, his eyes closed involuntarily and he drifted into sleep. 

He didn’t know when Olivia had come into the room and carried Sofia back to her own bed, he didn’t feel the kiss on his brow nor the gentle brush of her hand upon his head. In his dreams he was giving Leslie Downing a real beating and feeling triumphant, he even let a little laugh slip from his lips and Olivia, standing at the door, wondered what happy event her son was dreaming about.

She closed the door and plunged the room into darkness.
…………….

The baby slept soundly in his cot and Mary Ann leaned down to look at him, stroked back a dark curl and smiled. Daniel Cartwright stirred a little and smacked his lips, then clutched hold of his toy rabbit and hugged it closer to himself. Mary Ann smiled and quickly returned to her own bed. 

How the time had flown by, and her little boy was now 14 months old, walking about like a little man already and as she pulled the covers over herself she smiled again at the memory of her son sitting in a saddle on top of Buster, being taken around the paddock on a lead by Reuben who had been so proud as he watched the infant so carefully. Of course Joe was running beside the pony, holding onto the back of the saddle and with his other hand ready to grab his son. 

The child had loved it, shrieking shrilly every so often and kicking with his legs, thankfully quite ineffectively and Buster was totally unfazed by it all. Daniel’s cheeks had been rosy red and the hazel eyes had glowed and he had looked so like Joe that Mary Ann had fallen in love with them both all over again.

She turned now to gaze fondly at her husbands face as he slept by her side. His tanned skin looked darker than ever against the whiteness of the pillow, his hair was every bit as tousled and wild as it had been the very first time they had met, all that time ago when she had stopped them and asked for their help to get to Calico.

“In my heart of hearts I knew I loved you, even when you told me about that Indian girl you had loved and lost, I so wanted to hold you and take the pain away. What barriers you put up though, you were so alone, so sad. Dear Joe, dear Joe…”
…………..

In her room Olivia paced the floor with the baby in her arms and gently patted its back. He was sound asleep already but she loved the warmth of his body against hers as she walked around the room, a little body to hold and to love, to kiss and to cuddle. She went over to the window and looked out at the shadows of the buildings outside, then raised her eyes to the moon and the stars that floated in the heavens above… she sighed, then turned towards her bed.

How empty it seemed without him there, she longed for the day when he would return, when his arms would enfold hers and she could look upon his face and know that he was safe, he was there, right there, and safe.

Chapter 17

The fazenda, or as it would be called in Mexico, the hacienda, was not as big as either Adam or Jotham had anticipated. From the time the Portuguese had realised how rich the Pantanel became after the rains they had encouraged the building of cattle stations at various stages along the rivers. Like the River Nile that flooded over Egypt and fertilised the land there, so the Paraguay flooded and enriched the land so that it made perfect pasture for cattle. The fazenda’s and other outposts were flooded regularly during the rains so the properties were deserted and cattle moved to higher land until the dry season returned, and along with it the grasses, and pampas.

A lean figure of a man came out and approached the small pier that had been built on the shoreline. He carried a machete in his hand and for a few moments both Americans wondered if he were going to chase them off but when his leathery face broke into a broad grin and his head nodded in welcome they relaxed and followed Pele and Luis from the boat. The Indian remained seated, his features unchanged.

“American?” the owner of the fazenda said with another nod and he extended his hand to be shaken while he raised the machete in the other hand “For anaconda…” he explained and laughed.

Jotham glanced swiftly around to make sure the anaconda’s weren’t hanging around to grab at him, he’d seen several on his previous trip and had never got over the fright of seeing a whole pig being consumed by one. The Pantanero introduced himself with a long list of names but told them they could call him Jose, his wife was Neva and she was inside preparing food for them.

“You were expecting us?” Adam said as he followed Jose to the building from where they could hear the laughter of children and the scolding voice of a woman.

“Word gets around.” Jose replied, “People talk.”

“We all one family” Pele said, and he shrugged as though it were not unusual for something said hundreds of miles away  becoming common knowledge within hours elsewhere.

Neva was a small woman obviously with more Indian blood in her than her husband but there was a flash of white teeth as she smiled at them and then recommenced her scolding although the two children were now standing silent and wide eyed by her side.

“Sit. Be welcome.” Jose said and tossed the machete into a corner. “My children -” he gestured towards them and then clapping his hands ushered them out of the building as though they were two recalcitrant chickens. 

Neva served up the food, some soja (soybeans) and boiled chicken. It filled their stomachs but wasn’t the most appetising of meals. She stood by their side nodding and smiling, obviously unable to speak English and therefore a non participant of the conversation. Adam began by commending Jose on his knowledge of their language to which the man grinned broadly and informed them that he had been to mission school when younger.

“You’ve always lived here, on the river?” Adam asked as he chewed a particularly tough piece of chicken.

“No. Only since I married Neva. There is more money in raising vaca (cow) and growing soja. It is lonely but there are always travellers on the river.”

A platter of bread was produced and Jotham bit into some, enjoying the fresh yeasty taste, butter appeared wrapped in greasy paper. Luis and Pele larded their bread with it, buttercup yellow and melting in the heat though it was, they ate as though they hadn’t eaten for days.

Jose poured out the cereja and looked at the two Americans thoughtfully “Last year white people came on the river with many others, too big, too many peoples. Too many guns…”

“Guns?” Jotham stopped chewing “Guns?” he repeated and glanced at Adam, then at Pele and Luis.

Pele shrugged “Guides and others for protect the white men. You are fools to think no guns.”

Jose gave Pele a long rather hostile glare then turned to Adam “Too many. Too many men, too many guns. Indians see, they know guns and white men mean trouble for them. Too many times Indians killed. No talk, just bang.,bang, bang.”

Pele shrugged and for a moment Adam wondered if Jose was going to grab for his machete and make good use of it on Pele’s skull, it was obvious the two men had differing views of the native Indians. He cleared his throat and raised a hand “We haven’t come for that kind of purpose.”

“If you had, my door would be shut to you. But -” Jose offered Adam some more food, “you have the Terena with you. He is good, a wise man.”

“A shamen?” Adam asked and Jose paused to think about it before nodding, Adam smiled “He offered to guide us to where the others that you saw last year could be living now. Have you heard anything about them at all?”

“The white men?”

“Yes, the white men… an American, Englishman and Russian.”

Jose shrugged “They are white men, all the same to me …” he picked meat out of his teeth with a broken finger nail “No, I have heard nothing about them.” he drank some of the beer and frowned “There was one white man was sick with the fever.”

“So I heard…the American, Jefferson … a woman called Jaquetta helped him and he recovered?”

“Jaquetta Mendes, yes, she up along the river with her husband. They have a store there, they trade with the Indians.”

“And you’ve not heard anything at all about these men? About the attack on them and their guides?”

Jose sighed deeply, for a man who seemed to know everything ‘because of family’ it seemed suddenly strange that such a violent act only months earlier should not have become common knowledge along the river. He leaned upon his elbows on the table, “I hear nothing. People go into the swamps and wetlands, perhaps jaguar get them, or anaconda, or jacare … even Indians afraid that they will be murdered again … then they never seen again you understand.”

Adam glanced around the room, it was just one big room which contained everything the couple owned to run the cattle station and grow their crops. Childrens clothing and toys were scattered in one corner, food and cooking pots in another. He smiled, nodded and rose to his feet “Thank you for your hospitality, Jose.” he turned to Neva and said something to her in Portuguese which she seemed to understand because she smiled and nodded, her eyes twinkled and she put her hands together and bowed.

Jose followed them to the boat where the Terena still patiently waited, and stood back to watch them climb into the vessel. The children appeared from nowhere, shrill cries of playful words bantered between them as they darted back and forth. They were handsome children, black haired, black eyed and brown skinned and Adam followed them with his eyes as they darted into the house. He wondered if they would get any schooling or be condemned to live in this isolated spot until one day they would vanish either into the jungle or to some big city. It made him think of Reuben and Sofia, and the longing to see them had to be pushed away quickly before it took too firm a hold on his emotions.

“I see you when you come back - maybe.” Jose said and raised a hand in salute.

The boat pushed away and soon entered the mainstream to continue onwards. The forestry grew denser, Jotham cast a glance over his shoulder and wondered what Jose was thinking as he stood there watching them paddlling away from the fazenda.

He leaned towards Adam “He knows something about our missing men, doesn’t he?”

Adam nodded, “He’s either too afraid to mention it or prefers to keep quiet about it.”

“Do you think he recognised Pele or Luis?”

“Probably.” Adam replied but raised a finger to his lips to indicate caution in what was said where the two guides could overhear them.

The water slapped against the side of the dugout and the paddles rose and fell in unison. Despite anything else to the negative, it was clear the two men knew how to handle their craft. The Terena Indian remained as stoic and silent as ever, he sat facing the direction they were headed as though oblivious of who they were, where they were going or even why.

The food they’d eaten may have been unappetising but it had been filling so when Pele and Luis brought them to a halt to camp for the evening both Americans were loth to eat. They drank coffee and did manage to eat some of the dry biscuits they had brought with them. Luis and Pele made a small fire and sat close to the flames, it kept the majority of mosquitoes at bay while they ate their supper.

“I don’t trust them, sir.” Jotham muttered, “Even less now than I did earlier.”

“Jose didn’t seem too impressed with them either, I thought he was going to take his machete to them at one time.” 

“Why do you think it is so important for us to find those three men, Captain? Are they so well known, or dangerous or what?”

“Well, they are all three well known in their repsective fields. Politically though - I think that the fact that there are three differing nations involved or were involved in this expedition is one main factor as to why they have to be found. Each man represents their nation, whichever man survived and has the secret of the diamonds, or whatever it was they were really looking for, benefits their country.”

“Does it always come down to politics?” Jotham groaned.

“It usually does.” Adam smiled and emptied his cup of the coffee, “But it could all boil down to plain simple greed, ambition, national pride.”

Jotham stretched out his legs “I don’t think we’re going to find a diamond mine at the end of all this, do you?”

“Quite honestly, no, I don’t.” Adam frowned, his face scrunched into a scowl, “It doesn’t fit into the picture right, does it?”

“But there were a lot of men going with them… fifty men, that is a lot. Jose was right, it was too many.”

“And armed.”

“Yeah, and armed.” Jotham frowned, “And Pele and Luis were among them.”

“They may well believe that it was a diamond mine those men were after. That may be why they were so eager to ‘help us out’” Adam mused, and pouted his lips in a familiar manner while he raised his dark eyebrows, “Well, I’m sure we’ll find out for sure where their loyalties lay in the near future.”

They pulled their blankets over them, the air seemed full of the buzzing of mosquitoes, Jotham shivered, “Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think they may be assuming that we believe we’re looking for a diamond mine? I mean, they may be thinking that we know its location -.”

“Ah well, if they think that, then they’re wrong, aren’t they?” Adam replied shortly and pulled the blanket over his head in the hope of escaping a major mossie attack.

But there was a lot to think about, and his thoughts were on what little Jose had said that meant more than what he had actually divulged. Pele and Luis, well, he had already decided they were both totally untrustworthy. Yates bothered him, the memory of his conversation with the Englishman had troubled him, what was he actually doing in the Pantanel if he were not actually actively looking for Scolley? Why claim he was going to return to England when he patently wouldn’t achieve that journey in the time he had specified. And Radamsky? Why, Adam lamented to himself, why did there always seem to be a Russian involved whenever he was sent on one of these assignments?

As usual thoughts tend to trickle into a chain that links up with memories, and before long Adam was remembering Doestov, which led to Lebedev and the murder of the beautiful Irena Pestchouroff in Alaska. That then reminded him of O’Brien, the battle on the frozen tundra where Rostov and Jack Lawson had died. By the time he eventually fell asleep Adam Cartwright had tortured himself anew with the self condemnation for the deaths of those men and the loss of his friend, Daniel O’Brien.

 

 

Chapter 18

The letter was handed over to Mrs Cartwright with a smile, after all Eddie had handled the Cartwrights mail and various telegrams for years and knew the ones that would bring the recipients pleasure, those would cause pain. He knew exactly how Mrs Cartwright would respond to this particular letter, and nodded with satisfaction at the sight of the smile on her face and the way she breathed ‘Thank you’ to him on her way out of the building.

“Such a nice lady,” he said to his next customer who agreed with no particular interest in the lady at all.

Sofia was walking beside her mother, her hand holding fast to the hem of her mothers jacket. It was comforting to hold onto her like that, just knowing she was close enough but not a baby like some who needed to hold their mother’s hand. She wore her new blue dress with the white apron that went over her head and was tied neatly at the back. She felt very grown up. Her blonde curls were caught up in a matching blue ribbon and she wore white stockings. 

Reuben had been deposited at school a little earlier and had ran off happily enough having promised not to thump the Downing boy but to be mature enough to ‘turn the other cheek’. Olivia had delivered a little sermon about the principle of turning the other cheek, but Reuben wasn’t too sure if the Downing kid, as he referred to him, would comply with anything he said about it.

Bridie Martin smiled her big warm welcoming smile as she saw Olivia and Sofia enter the clinic. As usual it was busy and noisy with the chatter of women, some old men, babies and pre-school children. In one corner Mary Ann was seated with a group of small children gathered around her as she read them a story. In another corner Paul Martin had screened off the area in order to carry out preliminary medical examinations, hopeful that these ones would benefit from this free consultation with better health.

“I’m so glad you came today,” Bridie exclaimed as she dropped a kiss on Sofia’s head “I have to go and see Mrs Burgess, her eldest boy has just come in to tell me she’s gone into labour.” she stepped away from a table where she had been sorting out clothes, “You wouldn’t mind finishing this for me, would you?”

“Of course not,” Olivia replied and looked over at Mary Ann, waved briefly her letter to indicate that there was news at last, and then moved around the table to take Bridie’s place. 

“I put some into the basket to be laundered,” Bridie said, “Foo Ling will be here later to take them and wash them, then they come back tomorrow to be sorted through. The clean garments go into that basket, but the clothes for babies and infants go over there. I do hope you don’t mind, Olivia.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Olivia said again and slipped her letter into her pocket, smiled at Sofia, “Do you want to go and listen to the story, or stay and help me here?”

Sofia didn’t really want to rummage through dirty clothing, she had already caught a whiff of something that didn’t smell very pleasant and looked longingly over at Mary Ann. It didn’t take long for her to be joining the other children who, after the story had been read, were now taught a little song to sing, in time to clapping their hands to the tune.

Olivia set to her task of sorting out the clothes while all the time her mind went over and over what could be the contents of that letter. It had seemed such a long time since she had heard from him and several times she had to stop her work just to catch her breath and touch the pocket to feel the crackle of the envelope beneath her fingers.
……….

Mrs Burgess was a woman in her early thirties and about to produce her seventh baby. Two had been still born, and another had died in infancy. In the part of town where she lived infant mortality was high, and one of the ambitions of Paul and Bridie was to bring that number down so that every mother and child had the opportunity to survive birth and grow to their full potential.

She looked at Bridie with anguish in her eyes and shook her head, “I think it’s stuck.” she groaned while her hands gripped tight hold of the ticking on her mattress.

“Just relax, Mrs Burgess, and let me see.” Bridie said in her gentle no nonsense manner while at the same time she put a small box of food staples on the table.

The eldest Burgess, who had ran to get help, began to rummage in the box and exclaimed with delight at his findings, while the other two crowded round with cries of ‘Lemme see, Jimmy’ ‘What is it, Jimmy?’

Within five minutes the children were sitting eating some cookies, the kettle was boiling on the stove in order to make some tea, and Mrs Burgess was relaxed, holding onto Bridie’s hand and struggling to obey the instructions she was being given.

Bridie Martin patted Mrs Burgess’ hand and when the next contraction happened uttered soothing words. Over her shoulder she called to Jimmy to take his brother and sister to the clinic so that they could play with the other children there. Jimmy was used to having babies born and didn’t mind the fuss and noise but he was mindful of the lady and grabbed his siblings by the hands and led them away.

“Where’s your husband, Mrs Burgess?”

“Working. Down a mine somewhere, he works for the Yellow Jacket Mine.”

“Will he be home soon?” she moved to the stove and poured boiling tea over the leaves in the pot.

“Not until his shift is over.” the other woman said and gratefully took the cup from Bridie’s hand, “Oh, milk as well? Oh my goodness, I can’t remember the last time I had milk in my tea.”

“There’s sugar too, that’s good for the nerves. Now, drink it while it’s hot.” and Bridie smiled her generous warm smile while she sipped her tea, keeping a wary eye on the woman as she did so.

It took another hour before Baby Burgess arrived, safe and sound, bawling lustily. As Bridie cut the cord and lay the infant upon Mrs Burgess’ chest, she wondered if the town Council would allow funds for the ‘new’ buildings to have extensions built onto the back in order to provide parents with more than one child a little privacy. For a baby to be delivered in the main room of the house seemed so unbecoming to a country that boasted to be among the wealthiest in the known world. 
………..

Ben Cartwright received the cablegram from Eddie who smiled and nodded at the rancher as though to convey that the news wasn’t so very bad. Of course it all depended on exactly what news the big man had been expecting but Eddie was unfazed, he was quite sure that Ben would see the positives of what the cable brought him.

Ben walked out tearing the envelope and smoothing the paper, Hoss appeared immediately at his side and peered over his shoulder, “Who’s it from, Pa?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve not read it.”

“Is it from Adam?”

“No.” Ben’s lips thinned, his mind slipped back to wondering if he would ever hear from that son of his again, he shook his head and glared down at the address “It’s from the architects I contacted the other day.”

“The New Jersey ones?” Joe asked, having appeared at Ben’s other shoulder in order to take a peek “What’s it say?”

“It says ‘Regret to inform you the company you enquired about no longer exists here in New Jersey. Letter follows.”

“Is that all?” Hoss sounded almost as disappointed as Ben felt, he watched as Ben screwed the paper up and stuffed it into his pocket, “Never mind, Pa, that’ll mean you’ll be able to stay home and do the ledgers as usual while Joe and I go on the cattle drive .”

“Yeah, that’s right. Now Candy’s gone we need you at home to deal with things here, Pa. No good sending Hoss on his own with a herd of cows, you know what trouble he gets into… and no point in expecting me to do all the paper work because you know for sure what a mess I make of them.”

“Yes,” Ben intoned with a sigh in his voice “I know exactly what kind of mess you’d make of them, I’ve had to clear them up often enough.”

“They did say a letter follows, Pa.” Hoss pointed out as he steered his father in the direction of the saloon.

“Yeah,” Joe nodded, “That should prove interesting.”

Ben nodded, frowned slightly and pushed open the door to the saloon. Interesting indeed when one thought about it. He steered himself to a table and sat down, it was Hoss who went to the counter and ordered the three beers before pulling out a chair to sit on, Joe was already leaning back in his and smiling over at Candy who had strolled in behind them.

Ben removed his hat and set it down on the table, took the glass of beer from Hoss and nodded over at Candy. While the three younger men began to talk among themselves Ben gave the matter some serious thought. Why would anyone want to send a letter on after posting off a telegram saying the matter was, really, more or less closed. It was an hook that keep him wriggling at the end of it, there was still a mystery for him to solve after all…or, just perhaps… he sat back and sighed, nodded at Candy, drank his beer. It was really proving to be quite intriguing.
……………..

The Terena Indian had sat in such silence and with total stillness for so long that it was almost too easy to think he didn’t exist at all. When he suddenly rose up and swung his arm to the left, indicating that they turned off to the shore no one made any movement at all, the two Brazilians continued to paddle and Adam and Jotham remained deep in thought and nothing else. The Indian stood up and thumped his lance down upon the bottom of the boat and pointed once more to the shore where several alligators were quietly minding their own business, dozing in the heat of the day very much like Adam and Jotham. 

“Do as he says,” Adam said with a puzzled expression on his face for the Indian had been with them for two days now and had given no indication of interest in the expedition. So little did he provide to the group that Adam had got to wondering why he was there anyway.

Muttering to themselves Luis and Pele paddled hard towards the shore which aroused the interest of the alligators who slid into the water and moved into the centre of the river. The Terena said something to Luis who shrugged then he turned to Adam “Hide boat. Hide here - .” and he pointed to the thick roots of trees and shrubs, big leaved plants that concealed who knew what but behind which each man concealed themselves.

As silence descended the sound of paddles striking the water reached their ears. Adam craned forwards, his eyes narrowed in order not to miss a thing. The Indian, close by him, put a hand on the officers arm as though to prevent him rushing forwards from their place of concealment which was certainly not Adam’s intention.

A boat slowly emerged into view with six men within it. Adam glanced at Jotham and raised his eyebrows, Jotham shook his head and mouthed “What’s he doing here?”

Adam watched as the boat slid out of view, two alligators followed it but then stopped and slithered back to the shore, seeking the damp shadows of the foliage that grew right down to the waters edge. 

“Yates!” Adam hissed and shook his head, he looked at Jotham who could only stare back at the Captain in amazement. “Where’s Ramdamsky? He must be around somewhere?”
……………

Olivia smoothed out the letter upon her lap, her eyes scanned the words without taking notice of them but savouring them nevertheless because it was evidence that his hand had written them down With the children in bed, baby Nathaniel fed and dozing in the little crib nearby, she was now free to savour the letters contents at last.

With a sigh of contentment she began to read:

“My dearest Olivia

By the time you get this letter I shall have left for my assignment. It isn’t the easiest I’ve ever been on, and certainly not the most pleasant. Brazil just after the rainy season is not ideal, although I am told, and have read, that there are many things of beauty there.

I can’t really put into words the love I have for you, my dear, nor how much I miss you and wish I were there by your side right now. I wonder where you are as you read this letter, where the children are … are they playing? Is Reuben at school? Are you alone?

The ship’s company are mostly new to me, although the doctor is Euan MacPherson again, a good man, a most competent doctor. There are some who have served under me before now, which is always good to see.

Take good care of yourself, dear girl, thinking of you now makes me long for the day when I can hold you in my arms again and just know that you are safe, with me. Does that make sense? Do you understand how I feel?

My love always,
Adam.”

 

Chapter 19

The excitedly urgent whisperings of the two Brazilians behind them immediately drew Adams attention as soon as the other vessel had disappeared from view into the thick groves that overhung the waters edge. He hissed for silence and then, after a glare from dark eyes at both of them demanded what they were grumbling about now. Luis and Pele exchanged looks and Pele shrugged while Luis spread out his hands “The Inglisi.. He with other men …”

“They on walk with us. They survive like us.” Pele gabbled.

“Not good men. Drink all time.” Luis waved his hands and shook his head, “Not good honest hombres like us.”

Adam raised a hand for silence and looked at the Terena who was watching them with his usual bland expression, “You heard them coming?”

The Indian nodded, and pointed his hand to the direction the boat appeared and then swept his arm to wards the direction it had gone “House on stilts. Buy liquor.”

Adam looked down at the ground for a moment, recalling to mind the comment about the Englishman, Scolley and how he had always been drunk. He sighed and then glanced over at the Indian and with a nod indicated that he wanted to speak to him alone…

“Tell me more about yourself. What really is your connection with these men?”

He was still squatting on his haunches, concealed from the river by the amount of undergrowth, the Terena was also at that level, and looked thoughtfully at Adam’s face and then glanced quickly to where Jotham and the Brazilians were still half hidden away.

“I, Terena people, shaman”

“I know that much already. Tell me something I don’t know… like your name, why you’re helping us.. What your involvement in this mess has been?”

It was obvious the Indian was at a loss to understand everything Adam had asked, he stared again into Adam’s face “Qu’an Tera.” he pointed to himself and although his expression didn’t change Adam was sure that there had been a slight uplift of the dark brows. 

“Qu’an Tera?” Adam repeated and when the Indian nodded he said “Is that your name? Your title?”

“Qu’an Tera.” the man repeated “You - American - I - Terena. I see white men come with big many men.” He then paused, obviously at his limits regarding the language. He stepped back. Then slowly acted out what he had seen, by his actions Adam was able to interpret that Qu’an had seen the attack on the party that had gone into the interior and for some reason of his own had felt under obligation to act now as a guide, a better and more experienced guide that the two hapless Brazilians, Luis and Pele. Perhaps it was a matter of honour, perhaps it had been his people who had attacked the group when they had entered into their territory. Whatever the reason was left to conjecture, the man could say no more. 

Adam stood up and put out his hand as a sign that he accepted what had been said, the intention was to shake the Indians hand but whether Qu’an understood what a handshake meant or implied he only stood back, his face as inscrutable as ever. 

‘So, he doesn’t really trust us.” Adam thought to himself as he made his way to where Jotham and the other two men were clambering back into the dugout, “Hardly to be expected really, perhaps he has reason not to trust any white men and that’s why he’s taken on his role as our guide.” 

He gave an almost imperceptible nod to Jotham and entered the dugout, settled into position and waited for the Indian to take his, which he did some minutes later. Without a word spoken Pele pushed away from the land and out into the water. A water snake, black and lithe, swam past them, weaving in and out and around the paddles with an ease that made Jotham shiver. Not far to the left of them the water rippled for no reason and Luis glanced over his shoulder at them “Piranha.” and pointed to where the fish were obviously having a feeding frenzy, making both American wonder what or who had provided the feast.

The house on stilts as Qu’an had referred to the store approached just as the day was nearly at an end. There was no sign of the other canoe with Yates and the other men in it so whatever they had been wanting must, Adam concluded, been provided, leaving them time to remove themselves further upriver. They pulled their dugout high into the groves and walked to the building, the Terena preferring to stay where they had left the boat.

“Mendes? Mendes?” Luis called cupping his hands around his mouth in order to create a better effect “Hey. You have visitors.”

They walked on without any reason to feel anxious or concerned, but when a bullet suddenly winged its way towards them, followed by another, each man there dived for cover. Pele had given a yell and clapped a hand to his leg so that he had fallen into the undergrowth with Luis not far behind him.

A torrent of Brazilian words flowed heatedly from Pele, followed by more from Luis. “Mendes, Mendes… it is Luis… Luis Hernandez.”

Another bullet pinged against the trunk of a tree, birds that had flown screeching and squawking through the branches of the trees screeched and squawked some more, there was a chattering sound as a small family of monkeys skeetered away, scolding and angry at the sounds that had been disruptive to their peace.

Adam tugged at Jotham’s sleeve and signed to him that he’d go the back way round the property while they kept Mendes, if indeed it were him who was firing at them, occupied there. Jotham whispered to Luis to keep calling to his ‘friend’ so Adam crept away to the sound of Luis’ pleading voice “You have shot your friend Pele Valdez, Mendes, do you not know that? Your friend Pele is bleeding like one of your peegs, my friend.”

Adam found it easy enough to move through to the building, there had been a pathway cut out of the wilderness around the area of the store, which had been built on stilts so that during the rains when the ground flooded the building would remain untouched. There was ample room for dugouts and canoes to be pulled up beneath, and a strong tin roof had been nailed down that wasn’t going to be blown off at any time.

He had reached the back of the building when he found the first body. A thick set man lying in a huddled heap not far from rivers edge. When Adam touched him the body fell onto its back exposing the wounds that had killed him. At a guess Adam decided that a Machete had been wielded to good effect, and for a moment he wondered whether to proceed or return to the others.

He had already withdrawn his gun and held it steady in his hand as he now approached the building, with his free hand on the wood walls, he carefully rounded the corner to where a verandah ran across the frontage of the store, and it was here that a man was kneeling behind some barrels by the doorway. Carefully releasing the safety catch to his gun Adam aimed and said “Put the gun down, slowly … if not, I’ll fire.”

“No, No.” the gun was thrown to one side, “No, don’t shoot me, don’t shoot me, Captain.”

Almost weeping with fear and obviously shaking with shock the gunman hurriedly rose to his feet and turned to face his captor who now stood on the verandah and was staring at him in surprise “Yates? You?”

“Sure, yes, it’s me, it’s me… for pities sake, don’t shoot…” Yates closed his eyes as though he were about to offer up a prayer before, hopefully, he’d be meeting his maker.

“What are you doing here? What’s happened?” Adam slipped his gun back into the holster “Put your hands down, man, you’re looking ridiculous. What’s been going on? We saw you pass us earlier … where’s the rest of your men? Who’s the dead man out back?”

“Thank you,” Yates pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face and neck, “Thank you? I thought it was them come back to get me. Thank you for not shooting first and asking questions afterwards.”

“Like you, do you mean?” Adam sneered and yelled out to Jotham that there was nothing to fear, they could come over to join them. “You shot one of my men, you know.”

“I did?” Yates looked surprised “I thought I was shooting over everyone’s head or whatever, I didn’t mean to shoot anyone, it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Look, just stop jawing and get inside.” Adam scowled over at the Englishman and then looked over to Jotham who was helping Luis to support Pele. He gave a slight shrug as Jotham caught his eye “Best come and see who I’ve found ..”

Together Luis and Jotham helped Pele into a chair that was nearby and then followed Adam into the building where Yates was pacing the floor, rubbing his hands together like a man terrified for his life. Adam looked at him and then around the room “Where are the owners… the Mendes?”

“Dead.”

“Both of them?”

Yates frowned and rubbed his forehead, he closed his eyes as though struggling to think straight and then opened them to look around him. He put out his hands as though imploring them for something, Adam wasn’t sure what it was, for pity or understanding, perhaps? “I don’t know about Mrs Mendes, the woman I mean. Her husband was cut down by - by one of the men who I thought was going to guide me to Scolley and the other men. They said they were survivors of the expedition and that they knew where Scolley was, and that they’d take me there.”

“Alright, Mr Yates, just slow down. Catch your breath and take a seat.” Adam gestured to a chair and Yates stumbled into it, hunched himself over and buried his face in his hands, “Jotham, see if there’s anything we can drink around here. Hey, Luis…”

The Brazilian turned and nodded “I’m here, boss.”

“Go and see how Pele is, check and see how bad that wound is …”

“Sure, I go and do that now.” Luis cried and scampered off, only too happy to be out of the place.

While Jotham searched for something to drink the sound of the two men talking together on the porch could be heard in the background. Yates was calming down now, taking deep gulps of air and slowly looking more like the man they had known in the city. Jotham eventually appeared with some bottles of rough beer which he opened and handed round. Adam leaned upon the slab of wood that had served the Mendes as a counter, drank some and grimaced, swallowed and cleared his throat “What’s your story, Yates? Just who exactly are you representing?”

Yates took several swigs of the drink and looked at the two Americans, “I should have been honest with you from the start but I panicked when I met Radamsky. He assumed I was a representative from the British Government but I’m not, I’m just a journalist, freelance.”

Jotham lowered his hand and blinked, he stared from Yates to Adam and back again, “A journalist? What in the name of heaven were you doing here?”

“I - I can explain. I can explain everything.” Yates said with a slight quaver in his voice but before he could say another word Luis came running into the store yelling as though he were about to be murdered, pointing behind him and gibbering.

“I think,” Adam said slowly, “that Luis has just found Mr Mendes.”

“Really?” Jotham straightened up and then frowned “So why all the noise?”

Adam didn’t bother to explain, Luis was doing sufficiently well without his help.

Chapter 20 

Whatever Jothams thoughts on the matter he was despatched to attend to the body of the unfortunate store keeper and help Luis with Pele who was complaining that his leg hurt and no body was bothered whether it would drop off or not. Now that they were alone Adam pulled up a chair and sat astride it, looked thoughtfully at Yates and drew in a deep breath before exhaling slowly “Now then, Mr Yates, perhaps you would like to start from the very beginning .. Please.”

Mark Yates nodded slowly and ran thin fingers through lank hair that was clinging to his scalp due to his sweating so much. The atmosphere in the store was oppressively hot and he constantly licked his lips but when he looked at Adam it was with an honest straight appearance, he was out of his natural environment and shocked at the realisation that savagery had come so close to him.

“I’m a freelance journalist,” he repeated as though that was the most obvious way to start the conversation and he fumbled in his pocket and produced a white card which he handed to Adam. 

The details were as he had said, a small card with his name, profession and home address, in London, England neatly printed thereon. Adam slipped it into his own pocket and raised his eyebrows, “Go on…”

“Well, it was October 1875. I went to take notes of a meeting of the Natural History and Science Convention which was held annually. There were talks and discussions about the wetlands of the Brazilian and Bolivian mountains, they called it some Indian name or other but apparently the place was vast and its resources extraordinary. Scolley gave a talk about the Indians living there, undiscovered, primitive, and very savage. He showed some shrunken heads which I remember caused quite a stir. Some ladies actually fainted.”

Adam inhaled again, as though he were either impatient for the man to finish his story and get to the crux of the matter or because he was hoping not to have his head shrunk. He had heard of such things but never seen one himself. Yates drank some beer and swilled it around his mouth a while.

“During the discussions… well, questions from the audience and answers from the experts kind of thing, someone asked if there was gold and silver there, or diamonds and the answer was in the affirmative, that there were untold riches to be discovered there. During the sessions Sokolovich had a lecture on the plant life and said that the true wealth of these wildernesses was in the herbal qualities the plants contained. He put forward the hope that the Societies for Natural History and Science would sponsor an expedition. Someone ventured to say that as a Russian he would be better off getting help from his own Government, but he said that science, especially when it could benefit all mankind, should have no barriers.”

He scratched his head as though he needed to think things out and Adam shifted a little in the chair, the heat was becoming heavier as evening descended and shadows were drawing in closer. Yates frowned and recommenced his narrative “It was some weeks later when I saw Scolley again. The article I’d written had been very successful and the Editor of the paper I’d forwarded it to had asked me to look into it more if possible and send him anything I could find. Well, when I saw Scolley going in to the pub I naturally followed, keeping a discreet distance, of course.”

He took a sip of the beer and sighed, thought for a moment before he continued “There were several men there, they had their heads together over a map and Scolley was scribbling in his little notebook. I couldn’t hear everything they said, but Scolley did say at one point ‘Are you sure this isn’t just another myth?’ and the other chap pulled something out of his pocket, it was wrapped up in green cloth, and he was very cautious about showing it off. Scolley took it, whatever it was, and examined it carefully. He went pale before handing it back and said it looked authentic enough to him.”

There was a pause now as Jotham came back into the store with Pele and Luis, they were supporting the injured man between them and then lowered him onto a truckle bed that was in the corner of the room. As the shadows were descending Adam suggested that a search be made for lamps or candles which Luis eagerly undertook. Jotham pulled up a chair and sat close by to his Officer.

“Go on, what happened next?” Adam asked just as Luis found some lamps and light burst out into the room. He carried one over to where Pele lay, taking a mug of something to drink to him before sitting cross legged on the floor beside the bed. Adam noted that they were at a distance from them and when Mark began to speak again he signalled to him to lower his voice.

“I found out that the pub was Scolley’s favourite watering hole so met up with him several times after that, he liked to drink and when I told him I had been at the Convention and heard him talk about the Brazilian forests he was very impressed. I didn’t tell him I was a journalist, that was a sure way of these so called experts suddenly losing their tongues. Well, he let slip that there was an expedition being arranged. An American, Howard Jefferson was being backed by an very affluent sponsors, and the Russian Sokolovich was going with the backing of his Government.” Mark frowned, and nodded “Russia’s becoming an important player in the world now, they want to prove that they’re as much ahead with the times as any other nation. They don’t want to be thought of as a backward thinking country anymore.”

Adam nodded, he fully understood all about Russia, and asked Mark if he knew much about the American, Jefferson. “Sure, I did research on him as well. He’s very well known in his field, very well respected as well. Scolley promised that he’d let me know when they were leaving, in case I was interested. Well, my Editor was very interested and told me to get involved as much as possible but in the end Scolley just went without letting me know.”

“But you got his notebook anyway?”

“Oh yes. You see when they all disappeared my Editor contacted me and said that there was an even better story now, and he’d pay for me to come along and find out all I could. I wasn’t sure what my cover story could be but Radamsky came along and assumed I was a Government official looking for an eminent scientist, because that was what he was himself. He’d been here a while longer than I, we joined up, looked around to see what we could find, located some survivors and that’s how I came in possession of the notebook.” he looked at Adam and grimaced, a downturn of his mouth and a shrug of the shoulders “I’m sorry I lied to you, Captain. I didn’t want Radamsky to realise that I was just a journalist.”

“He probably found that out sooner than you think, Yates, and saying that you’d be off to England to put in your report and back again within a month was a sure fire way of confirming his suspicions.” Adam said with a slight smile.

“I realised I’d made a mistake as soon as I said it,” Mark replied with another shrug, “I thought I’d get some of the men I knew had been on the expedition and follow you. You had the advantage of one of the Terena Indians guiding you, and the notebook.”

Jothan now leaned forward, having been patient for so long his curiosity had now piqued and he asked Yates what had happened at the store house, to Mendes and Mrs Mendes.

“We got here some hours ago, and the men I’d hired immediately demanded drink. They weren’t content with beer, they wanted stronger, tequila one of them said. It wasn’t long before they got drunk and quarrelsome, then they got to whispering together, laughing, looking at me and Mrs Mendes in a way I didn’t feel comfortable about and I asked Mendes what was going on. He was getting worried and told them to quieten down, they started a fight with him, it just got out of hand. I got hit on the head - and then when I came round they’d gone. Emptied my wallet, took my notes .. And Mrs Mendes as well. Then when I went outside I found Mr Mendes, he had a rifle in his hand which I picked up just as I heard you approaching. I thought they’d come back to kill me off….I’m sorry I shot at you, I’ve never fired a weapon before in my life.”

“I’m sure Pele will be pleased to know that it was nothing personal, Mr Yates.” Adam said and rose to his feet, pushed the chair aside and walked over to the injured man, “How is he?”

“Fever. Not able to go on now.” Luis said defiantly and his dark eyes flashed rebellion, but Adam didn’t seem too bothered by the information he just nodded and said that they needed to eat, Pele may feel better after some food and sleep.

Luis said nothing to that but shrugged and stubbornly refused to move from his position. If they wanted food, then they could get it themselves.

There was sufficient food and more for them to make a meal, a substantial one at that. Jotham returned to the dugout with maize and meat for the Indian, and to suggest that he join them closer to the store. It was an hour before Qu’an eventaully arrived and sat, cross legged, on the verandah outside the building. 

They settled down to sleep, and although Adam was quite sure that the Indian would remain alert he put them on four hourly watch through the night. 

Throughout his watch Adam thought over Mark Yates story. He was quite sure that the man was telling the truth, there was too much detail in the whole thing for it to fabricated but the fact that Radamsky had gone made the American feel uncomfortable. His only dealings with Russians hadn’t been very positive, even his liking for Doestov had been founded on the fact of mutual respect for the person rather than the profession or integrity of either. 

He wondered why Yates guides would take his notebook. Perhaps to see just how much Yates knew, or in his conjectures and speculations would lead them to provide their own answers. It niggled, the fact that there were a bunch of murderous Brazilians paddling around close by and an invisible Russian to boot, was just too big an itch to scratch.

When Jotham relieved him he found a blanket and curled up on the floor. He could hear Pele groaning and moaning, Luis whispering which led him to wonder if the two of them would attempt to murder them as Yates men had to Mendes. He fleetingly wondered the fate of the woman and then drifted off to sleep.

Jotham was preparing some food for them to eat when Adam woke up. The only sounds, apart from Jotham’s preparations were the sounds of the wilderness waking up, monkeys gibbered, birds called out, song birds trilled. For a moment Adam lay still and listened, pondered over the diversity of creation, the beauty alongside the terrible. Along with the most colourful and lovely of creatures were the anaconda’s, alligators, other reptiles and creatures that made him shiver just thinking about them.

Qu’an was still in his position on the porch and accepted the food without a word. Yates and Luis roused themselves and set about their ablutions, ate their food and drank strong hot coffee. Pele was weak, feverish. Adam examined his leg and noted that the bullet had passed through the fleshy part of his calf, had the man been cleaner there would, perhaps, have been less infection. He cleaned the wound thoroughly with salt water and bound it with some clean linen.

“I stay here, boss.” Pele said hoping that his voice sounded weak and that of a near dying man.

“Your arms aren’t affected, man, you can still paddle a canoe.” Jotham said with a scowl, and glanced at Adam who gave a slight shrug of the shoulders.

Luis defended his friend, declaring the man far too weak, too unwell. “I suppose you feel you need to stay with him?” Adam said and when Luis nodded very empathetically the Captain turned around and picked up his hat, buckled on his gun belt and checked his gun.

Luis watched as though fascinated and no doubt wondering if the American was going to threaten the two of them with a bullet each if they didn’t get to the canoe, but Adam didn’t bother. So far as he was concerned both men were pretty useless as far as they went, he knew that the two of them relied as much on Qu’an as they themselves did and so without another look at them he walked out of the building.

Qu’an was already in the boat, patiently waiting for them to set off. Casting his kit into the dugout Adam settled inside, followed by Jotham and then Yates. Picking up a paddle the two naval officers cast their vessel from the shore with the journalist hugging his belongings close to his chest and wondering if he would ever get back to his ’watering hole’ in London ever again.

 

Chapter 21

Light from the sun broke through the thick canopy of leaves, boughs and overhanging growth in sudden bursts as though to surprise those travelling through the murky humid gloom of the Paraguay. Jotham sat in the rear with Yates between him and Adam, while the Indian sat in his usual position as the navigator. 

The two Americans used the paddles to good effect synchronising the rise and fall of each stroke to propel the rough hewn vessel through the waters. Every so often something would slither past which would cause Yates a shiver down the spine and the occasional curse. Alligators dosed in the heat on the shores and when Adam called for a break in order to drink or eat something they did so remaining in the boat and away from the reptiles which at times were grouped closely together and would open their eyes lazily as though to look them over as a possible meal.

Qu’An remained silent and stationary, moving only when necessary and that was seldom. Yates on the other hand fidgeted and moaned, fussed and cursed so much that Adam had to order him to quieten down. During one of their breaks for a drink Adam asked Yates how he had managed during the time he was with Radamsky looking for the so called clues to the whereabouts of the missing men. “You must have seen enough alligators and snakes then surely?”

“Not really,” Yates said with a shiver as something stirred in the water nearby, “I mean, from a distance, nothing like this -.”

“I can understand why your guides left you behind at the Mendes,” Jotham muttered, “If you made this fuss all the time when you were with them I’m surprised they didn’t throw you overboard.”

Adam frowned and looked thoughtfully at the journalist “Why exactly did you hire those men anyway? Surely you could tell they were a bad lot?”

“I told you before, I thought there was a good story to come out of all this. I want a scoop, Captain, and following you, being involved in this search, will provide me with one that could make my name as a journalist. They promised me their help so I took them up on it. I wasn’t to know that they had their own agenda.”

“Which was?” Adam raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jotham.

“To get rid of me as soon as they could.” Yates scowled darkly. “They said that the American, Jefferson, had been taken ill and Mrs Mendes had cured him. They were of the opinion that he may have told her something in his delirium that would lead them to this lost city.”

“Why didn’t you mention this before,” Adam exclaimed in exasperation, “Did they mention it to Radamsky?”

Yates shook his head and his face screwed up with annoyance, “Look, I only just remembered it, alright? I can’t think of everything you know? And why should they have mentioned it to Radamsky, they didn’t mention it to me until we were nearly at the place where she lived.”

Jotham looked thoughtful as he resumed his position in the boat. Being a dugout crude vessel there were no seats or benches up on which to sit, they had to kneel, paddle and keep their position steady as they worked. It was tiring work and he was feeling less than generous towards the Englishman, “This Radamsky fella is a bit of an enigma, don’t you think, sir? He told me, prior to your arrival, that Sokolovich was his brother in law, that it was an honour to be asked by his Government to look for him, but more so because he wanted to find the husband of his little sister.”

Adam nodded “True enough, that’s what he told me when we met at the hotel, which is why I can’t understand his going back to Russia without having found anything out at all. I doubt very much if Gorchakov would be relying on me of all people to find their missing scientist, and why would Radamsky expect me to do more than would be expected of him, the mans relative?” he glanced over his shoulder at Yates who was scribbling down notes with nervous jottings of his pencil. “It was easy enough to see through Yates, his lies were so blatant, and he looks what he is, don’t you think?”

Jotham nodded “But Radamsky?”

“I can’t imagine his sister being very pleased to see him without news of her husband, do you?”

“If you don’t mind my saying so, sir, but this whole assignment is very strange. I have to admit I don’t feel at all comfortable about it, my gut feeling is that there’s something very wrong with it all.”

Adam narrowed his eyes and then sighed, shook his head “My gut is saying much the same, but there’s not much we can do just yet … it’s a case of following each lead until we can put them all together to make sense of them. Radamsky is just a loose thread …he’ll show up when he thinks it’s convenient.”

“To whom?” Jotham sighed and his frown deepened when Adam shrugged and said “To himself, of course.”

He turned to Yates who was obviously deep in thought about what to write next “Yates?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“Radamsky?”

Yates sighed as though the subject of the Russian was now boring and he didn’t really want to repeat himself, “What about him?”

“You spent a bit more time with him than Lieutenant Morton here … did he talk about his family connections? His sister ?”

Yates stared at the officer and then shook his head “Not really.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Did he or didn’t he?” Adam snapped irritably and picked up his paddle which Yates surveyed with speculative caution.

“He said that Sokolovich was married to his sister which was why he was so pleased to have been asked by Gorchakov to undertake the search. He said Sokolovich was all the things I’ve already mentioned and that he would be t he proudest of men to be able to return back to Russia with him, safe and in one piece - or words to that effect, of course.” and he licked the nib of his pencil and jotted down a few more words in his notebook.

“So -” Adam pursed his lips in a familiar pout and narrowed his eyes “if that was the case why has he gone back to Russia now without any further information or a body or the man himself ? Having said one thing why is he doing the exact opposite?”

Yates put down his notebook and pencil as though appeasing the officer with answers was a regrettable lapse and waste of his time, “I don’t know. Have you ever tried to get into the head of a Russian aristo and make sense of what’s going on inside it? He didn’t take me into his confidence, Captain, that’s all I can tell you.”

“You didn’t see him before he left?”

“No.”

“Not to speak to at all?”

“No.” Yates frowned and rubbed his nose, he shrugged “If you recall we left the room together. He said he was returning to Russia and I said - well - what I said about going to England. I never thought any more about it, I mean, about what he had said because I was too worried about what I’d said, I knew I had made a classic error and you would pick up on it. That’s why I got busy rounding up some men to be my guides. But I never saw Radamsky after that meeting and we parted in the foyer of the hotel.”

Adam fixed him with a long dark stare and then turned his back on him, he nodded his head as a signal to Jotham to prepare to commence paddling, the boat moved forwards creating small wavelets that trickled across the waters towards the shore. The sounds of the wilderness continued around them, a constant background noise to the sound of the paddles striking in and out of the currents. Qu’an sat cross legged and silent, his thoughts and feelings were his own, his reasons for being where he was totally safe and locked within his heart.

It seemed to Adam that he was never free from Gorchakov’s reach, even here in the wilderness a Russian was creating the most difficulty in an assignment that was proving to be nothing more than a gigantic conundrum. Behind him Jotham kept his eyes fixed on Yates back, if he could have done so without a myriad mosquitoes diving in on him he would have liked nothing better than to have stripped off his shirt which was sodden with sweat, and dived into the water, alligators and water snakes included. He felt miserably hot, and uncomfortable. 

The light was fading now, even when the foliage above them was thin and enabling the sun to shine through, so the day was drawing to a close. Yates cleared his throat “If I recall rightly from the map, we should be reaching a tributary of this river soon.”

Adam nodded “Yes, I’ve been looking out for it for the past ten minutes.”

“Can we trust that Indian, Captain?” Yates hissed, leaning forward slightly in order to whisper the words in Adam’s ear, but his question was met with a shrug of the shoulders, and Adam said quietly “Just at present, Mr Yates, I’m not sure who exactly there is we can trust.”

That remark had the effect of making Mark Yates sit back, he slowly unbuckled his bag and placed his precious notebook and pencil within before rebukling it and clutching it to his chest. Nearby came the splash of something falling or entering the river, he didn’t dare to look over his shoulder but sat rigid and straight backed.

The tributary appeared just ahead and Qu’an raised his arm with the lance in his hand and pointed to the direction they were to take so with unhurried strokes of their paddles Adam and Jotham steered their way to where the Indian indicated and carefully beached the craft. After dragging it up into the undergrowth they pulled out their belongings while the Indian stood leaning upon his lance while balanced on one foot, waiting for them in his usual stoic manner.

“We walk.” he said and after looking at each one of them in turn he began the trek through the dank foliage.

Adam checked his gun to ensure that it could be removed from its holster swiftly and followed the Indian without faltering. Behind him came Yates, still hugging his possessions closely to his chest and his eyes roving everywhere in case there was a snake underfoot to bite him, or an anaconda overhead to fall upon him. Jotham brought up the rear, a rifle in one hand and his kit on his back. Sweat dripped down his back and mosquitoes gathered in swarms. He wondered, briefly, how his cousin Daniel O’Brien would have handled such an adventure, no, correction he told himself, this was no adventure, this was an ordeal of the worst kind!

Chapter 22

Hoss Cartwright sat in the big armchair and stretched out his legs so that his feet could feel the heat from the fire. It had been a cooler than usual day and the evening was cold enough to warrant a fire, he wriggled his toes and watched his wife as she nursed Hope with Hannah playing on the rug with a doll.

He was a contented man and thanked God for his blessings daily after all he had many compared to some he knew. His eyes lingered upon Hope whose fingers were playing with a strand of Hester’s hair. It hardly seemed possible that she was just a month short of a year old, and the memory of her birth brought a lump to his throat as he recalled Paul telling him that he could well have to choose between his wife or his child. The scene played before his eyes vividly and he had to put a hand to his chest to stop his heart thumping so hard.

Hope with her bright blue eyes and blonde hair was smaller built than Hannah, she had her mother’s shaped face, and quiet nature. It fascinated him regularly at noticing the 
differences between his daughters, upon which thought his gaze now turned to Hannah who was encouraging her dolls to sit in a circle and read a book. Hannah with her black hair and bright eyes, she resembled her father with her round face and had Hester’s build, but other than that she took after her grandfather Ben more each day. Hoss sighed and when he looked up it was to notice Hester looking fondly over at him.

“Are you alright, Hoss?” 

“More than alright, Hester, I was kinda counting my blessings.”

She smiled slowly and looked lovingly down at the infant she was nursing, Hope’s eyes fixed upon her own and her face creased into a smile at the recognition of her mother. Hester stroked back some of the fine blonde hair and then looked back again at Hoss, “We’ve so much to be grateful for, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, I was remembering when Hope was born and how I nearly lost - could have lost you.” he cleared his throat noisly, “Shucks, I don’t know how I’d have managed without you, Hester.”

She said nothing to that but turned away at the sound of Ben entering the room and joining them, “Are you alright, Pa?” she asked, and waited for him to settle into his old leather chair before asking him if he had received any news from Adam as yet.

“No.” he sighed and frowned, “After all this time in the service I should be used to it, I suppose.”

“No news is good news.” Hester murmured as she stood up and smiled over at him, “At least we can keep telling ourselves that, can’t we?”

“Yes, my dear, I suppose we can.” Ben nodded and reached for his pipe, saw Hannah who was now on her feet and leaning against his legs “Hello, sweetheart, what have you been doing?”

“Reading a story, granpa.”

“Well, come here and sit on my lap, and I’ll read one to you, if you’d like.”

“About a princess?”

“Of course, if that’s what you want.” Ben smiled, his dark eyes gentled and he ran his hand over her head, “Do you know, Hannah, I remember another little girl who looked just like you.”

“Was she pretty?” Hannah’s eyes went round and she hugged her rag doll close to her chest.

“Well yes, of course she was pretty, if she looked like you she would be very pretty, don’t you think?”

Hannah frowned, “What was her name?”

“Her name was Sarah. She was my sister and a year older than me, eighteen months younger than my brother John.”

Hester glanced at Hoss and then over to Ben “You haven’t mentioned her for some while, Ben.”

“Haven’t I?” Ben’s brow crinkled and he shrugged “I guess it never struck me before just how much like the Cartwrights Hannah takes after, she’s very like Sarah. There were five of us, John was the eldest, then Sarah, then myself, Martha came next and Francis was the youngest.” he smiled slowly, and gazed into the fire while Hannah settled into his lap with her head upon his chest, “Sarah was never afraid to speak her mind if I recall rightly, different from Martha who was very quiet and rather timid. Yet for all her spirit she was the one who died when smallpox swept through the town. Martha was stronger, and survived.”

“What happened to Martha, Pa?” Hoss asked and leaned forwards a little in order to help himself to some apples.

“Oh she became a schoolteacher. I left home when I was 14 if you recall, so I never really saw much of her growing up, but I remember getting back in time for her wedding. She had been a teacher for a few years by then and married a doctor, young man of the name of Gorman. That was the last time I saw her as he took her off to some settlement in the west. My mother told me that she’d had a child at sometime but I can’t recall when that was, letters seldom arrived even if they were ever written.” he shrugged and looked at Hannah “I think it’s time for your bed, young lady.”

“But you never told me a story, granpa?” the child lisped prettily and blinked her eyelashes so that Ben laughed and tweaked her nose

“Get to bed and I’ll come up later and tell you one. You pick out a book, alright?”

“Oh yes, thank you, Granpa.”

Her feet pattered lightly across the floor and Ben sighed, he could recall another little child who would run across the floor like that and as like as not trip over his own feet before he was half way up the stairs. Little Joseph Francis Cartwright had kept them all, more or less, on their toes with his mischief and ability to get into trouble. Ben’s head drooped upon his chest and he forced the memory to float away.

“Are you alright, Pa?” Hoss asked, forgetting that his wife had asked just that same question only moments earlier. 

“Yes, Hoss, I’m alright.” Ben replied with a slight shrug of the shoulders as the only indication that he was irritated by this attention.”Now, if it’s alright with you, I’ll go and tell my grand daughter a story.”

“Sure, Pa, sure…” Hoss let the words trail away as he watched his father’s broad back and then with a slight frown bit into an apple.
………

The note paper seemed to taunt him by its whiteness. As ever when confronted with a blank page Hoss felt at a total loss as to what to put down onto it. He rummaged through his mind as to what he had intended to do and then dipped his pen into the ink well. The pen hovered for a fraction of a second before he began to write his letter.

“Hi Adam

It’s late evening here, and apart from Hester and me everyone’s gone to bed. Well, I guess that means Hop Sing, Pa and the girls. 

It’s been a busy day, spring time always is busy like as you know what with the branding and checking over things to make sure everythings in order for the cattle run. Luke Dent and the Jessops are joining with us this springtime, so likely as not it will be quite some herd being taken down for all them eastern folk to enjoy some Ponderosa beef steak.

Anyhows, we’re all doing well here and thinking of you. I heard you was in Brazil of all places. That’s a big lot of land out there, brother, I saw it on the map and looks like to me you’re as likely to get lost in that place as you would if you stayed on your boat.

Well, fact is why I’m writing this here letter is because we’re a mite worried about Pa. Since he found that note like what I told you about in my last letter to you, he’s been acting not like hisself - I mean - himself. Seems like he’s waiting for something to happen. Well, he’s actually waiting for a letter to come to tell him about this here family called Barrington who are related to Martha Frobisher. He’s kinda all jittery and jumpy like a young calf waiting to get branded but not sure why and if he’ll like it or not.

Not sure what he intends to do when he gets this here letter, that’s if it tells him much of what he wants to hear anyhow. He don’t talk much about it, fact is, he don’t talk about it at all. I ain’t even sure he knows what he’s going to do when he gets it either.

I thought I’d jest write and let you know, Adam, so’s you know what’s going on here while you’re enjoying your trip in Brazil. Leastways then when you git back home you’ll know what to expect and if Pa aint’ quite acting right, you’ll know why as well.

I saw Olivia and the children today and they are all well. Nathaniel is looking good, a real Cartwright and no mistake. I ain’t meaning by that, that Reuben and Sofia ain’t Cartwrights, but you know what I mean, don’t you?

Shall write and let you know how everything is another time.

Thinking of you…your brother, Hoss.”

……..


Mary Ann Cartwright checked the cot in which her son was sleeping and then moved the night light a little further away so that inquisitive fingers could not reach out and topple it over. For a moment she stood and watched the rise and fall of the infants chest as he breathed while he slept, just now and again his fingers twitched or his eyelids fluttered and he would sigh. 

She turned her head as she heard the sound of her husband mounting the stairs, took a last look at Daniel and then closed the door in order to walk with Joe to their room. Joe, tousled haired and yawning smiled “Is he alright?”

“Sleeping sound.” 

“That’s good.” Joe yawned again, “Shucks, it’s been a long day. Every year I try and convince myself of some good reason why I shouldn’t get involved with that branding…but each year it’s the same.” he yawned again and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “Come here, sweetheart, let me have a hug?”

She smiled and approached him, wrapped her arms around him and ruffled his hair “What you need is a good nights sleep. It’s just a shame that you don’t have Candy to help, and with Adam gone too it must make it harder work than usual.”

“Yeah, some.” he raised his face to receive her kiss and released her, slowly he began to unbutton his shirt while his features settled into an anxious frown, “I wish Candy hadn’t moved on, although I can understand why…Ann is a town girl after all, and although she tried hard to be a ranchers wife it must have been difficult.”

“Oh she was just finding it lonely.” Mary Ann replied diffidently while she began to remove her dress, “It’s a long day without adult company.”

He paused as though to think about that and then turned to look at her “Do you find it lonely, dear?”

She sighed and tossed her dress onto the back of a chair, “A little more than I did. I didn’t realise how much I relied on Bridie for - well - company, and help with doing things around the house.” she shrugged a little “Daniel is getting more active now and I seem to spend a lot of time with him, when I should be doing other things.”

He grabbed at her hand and kissed her fingers “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I hadn’t given it much thought, and I should have done…”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about, Joe. I have Hester and Olivia closeby after all.”

“Yes, but they have Hop Sing and Cheng Ho Lee to help them in the house. Do you want for me to find someone to come and give you some help here?”

She shrugged slightly, “There won’t be anyone as good as Bridie.” she sighed and began to unfasten her bodice, “She was such a good friend.”

“She became a good friend, Mary Ann, but she started out as a stranger with a good reference from Olivia, and that was all. Let me at least try and see who I can find for you.”

“Perhaps I should just be grateful for what I’ve got, Joe. After all there’s a lot of women who have to work harder than I do, and with far less than I have got.”

He dropped a kiss on the back of her neck, “I know, but that doesn’t mean to say that you can’t have the same kind of help as Hester and Olivia.”

She said nothing to that, as usual she felt pangs of guilt at the idea of complaining when she fully knew that many other housewives worked to exhaustion on homesteads and homes in the territory. One of the reasons many women died in childbirth was due to the fact they were too exhausted and worn out to get through labour, or so malnourished that the extra demands on their bodies killed them. She’d seen enough hollow eyed women, with haggard faces looking ten years older than they were, when she helped at the clinic. There were times when she wished she had never volunteered to help there, she saw to much that reminded her that compared to some the Cartwright women were in a position much to be envied.

Joe was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow and for that she was grateful. She lay awake for a little while listening for sounds from Daniel’s room as she always did, as every mother would do, and slowly drifted into sleep.

 

Chapter 23

Miss Brandon looked up from her book and observed her class room with a critical eye. There were several new students who were settling in reasonably well and adjusting to their new lives in Virginia City. Some of her older students would be graduating this year and she longed to pay them more attention as several showed such promise for college but such just was not possible with having so many differing ages to teach, and all demanding her input. She thought being a teacher one of the greatest privileges to be given to her, and had that invaluable quality of never wanting to ruin any of her students opportunities to better themselves in their education.

Young Reuben Cartwright raised his head at that moment and caught her eye, she smiled and nodded but he quickly returned to his work. She leaned back in her chair and surveyed him as he scribbled industriously at the essay she had set his age group. He was a good student in the main, more given to grammar and literature than to math, although he was adequate in those subjects. He worked hard to achieve what he did, nothing came easily and there were times when he would be a trifle lazy and turn in sloppy work which she always made him redo.

She recalled to mind that his father, or rather, adoptive father, was absent from home again, and it was during these times that his work lacked the usual care and attention he would give it. She pondered on whether or not to have a private word with Mrs Cartwright about the matter and then turned her attention to the student sitting next to him.

Annie Sales was a serious little girl who wore spectacles and had freckles. Her father was one of the towns top Mercantile traders, and was already very aware of how to manipulate her fellow students into doing things her own way. She was charming, strong willed and quick minded. She never handed in sloppy work and was meticulous in all that she did. She was, to Miss Brandon’s thinking, a model student. 

It struck Lydia Brandon that since the cholera outbreak in town the previous year Annie had become an even better student, and even now her face was screwed up in concentration over her writing as though, to her, every single word was important. 

Both Reuben and Annie were popular among their class mates and with a sense of satisfaction Lydia stood up and walked to the youngest group of children to give them some assistance with their letters. As she did so she glanced once again over at Reuben and Annie and this time it was the girl that caught her eye. “Is everything alright, Annie?”

“Yes, Miss Brandon.” Annie said and with a slight blush lowered her head to return to her work.

Reuben didn’t look up again as he concentrated on writing his essay. The topic had been about the future and what they had hoped to achieve when they grew up. Every so often he had glanced over at Annie to snatch a glimpse of what she had written down in her very neat and precisely rounded letters. It often irritated him that she was so good at every subject when she was a little younger than he, but a far better student.

The sound of Miss Brandon clapping her hands together for attention made him jump, and he dropped his pen which caused a blot at the bottom of his paper. Annie of course had no such blemish upon hers and sat with upturned face and a slight smile on her lips. Annie, Reuben knew, was almost perfect.

“Very well now, we have some time for a few of you to read your essays to the class. Who would like to be first?”

Reuben looked over at Annie and waited for her to put up her hand, but it was Tommy Conway, one of the new students who did that and was soon on his feet to read his hopes of the future. Mr and Mrs Conway had recently moved to Virginia City from Brooklyn where they had managed a music store, and had hoped for equal success in their new location. Tommy laboured over his essay but informed everyone there that he was going to own a whole string of music stores from San Francisco to New Hampshire, from Nevada to New York City. One day Tommy Conway was going to be rich and famous.

Annie was next and she stood up very straight and tall, her braids neatly tied in blue ribbons to match her blue dress that matched her eyes. She smiled at Miss Brandon who smiled immediately back, 

“I am Annie Sales and my father owns the Mercantile Trading Store here in town. I am going to be a school teacher like Miss Brandon. I am going to be a teacher here in Virginia City. First of all I shall go to college and then I shall teach school. One day I shall get married and have children but I want to be a teacher first of all. The End”

Everyone murmured and nodded, every child there had no doubts whatsoever that Annie’s goal in life was far more achievable than Tommy Conways’. Miss Brandon gave her a special smile, Annie’s ambitions obviously met with her full approval.

“Reuben, would you like to read your essay… we just have time for one more and it would be good to hear what you would like to do.” she gave him an encouraging nod of the head and watched as he slowly, reluctantly, rose to his feet.

Reuben felt his hands sweating slightly, he never liked to be the centre of attention and unlike Annie lacked her composure and confidence. He stared at his paper and cleared his throat.

“My Pa is in the navy and goes to lots of different countries. He tells me about his ships. I have been on some of the ships and when I get old like him I shall be in the navy too. I did want to break in horses like he used to do and like my Uncle Joe does, but I think I would like to be in the navy now and go to all those different places like my Pa.”

There was silence, then Lydia nodded, smiled and said he had made a very good effort. He sat down with his paper and looked at Annie who was staring at him but turned her face away when he gave her a very disdainful glare.

“Whereabouts is your father at the moment, Reuben?” Miss Brandon asked “Would you like to show us on the map?”

He blushed to the roots of his hair as he got to his feet and dragged himself to the front of the class where the big map of the world was pinned to the wall. He lowered his head and said quietly “Pa’s in Brazil.”

“Brazil?” Lydia exclaimed and for a moment he wondered if she disbelieved him, but she stood up and joined him in front of the map and helped him to locate it before turning to the class “Children, for your next essay I want you to write all you can find out about Brazil. You older ones, I want you to write a story as though you were on board a ship sailing to that part of the world. Hand it in to me by the end of the week.”

There were mutterings and mumblings as they shuffled their papers and books, the clock struck the hour, and Lydia watched as her classroom slowly emptied. Reuben was leaving his desk when she called him to her side “Reuben, are you alright?”

“Yes’m.” he nodded and looked into her anxious face, he smiled “Thank you, m’am.”

“I was surprised at your essay. I never thought you would want to be a seaman like your father?”

“I only thought about it the other day, Miss. I wanted to be a bronco buster like he’d been, and work on the Ponderosa, but I was looking at the ship - you know, Miss - the model ship I brung to school that time - and it sure is a swell ship, I’ve bin on it, you know? I thought then I would sure like to visit all those places like Pa.”

“Life on board ship can be very hard though, Reuben. Your father’s an officer, a very high ranking officer at that so he wouldn’t have to deal with the difficulties many seaman of lower rank have to contend with on board ship.”

He didn’t really understand what she was saying, but nodded and hoped he looked as though he did and that he could go before she got talking any more. “Does your mother know you would like to go to sea?”

“Not yet, Miss.” he frowned, he hadn’t thought about what his mother would think about it, and wondered if she would mind but then, he thought, he was only 9 years old so perhaps by the time he left home for the sea she wouldn’t mind so much.

“Very well, off you go. Oh Reuben -” she paused and her face softened “How is your mother? And your sister and little brother?”

“They’re fine, Miss, thank you.”

She nodded, his cue to leave and he did so quickly before she changed her mind. Outside Annie Sales was waiting for him and awarded him a wide smile. Together they walked side by side out of the school yard and into the town. This was one of those days when the three Cartwright ladies came into town and helped at the clinic, and then met at Ann’s to do their quilting. It was the one day in the week when Reuben didn’t have to ride home in the wagon with Hank, or Cheng Ho Lee.

“I didn’t know you wanted to be a sailor, Reuben.” Annie said in her clear high voice as she swung her books by the strap that bound them together.

“I only decided the other day.” he shrugged, “I didn’t know you wanted to be a school teacher.”

She sighed and fluttered her eyelashes “I’ve always wanted to be a school teacher, just like Miss Brandon.”

“Oh. I see.” Reuben frowned, “Well, I want to be a seaman, just like my Pa.”

She nodded and did a little skip along the sidewalk, her skirts flounced and her black braids bounced “I see…” she replied and swung her books a little higher. 

At the store they parted, Reuben didn’t look back as his mind was on getting to Aunt Ann’s as soon as he could because today there would be cake. Oh cake…yes, much better to think about cake and lemonade before Ma would bundle them all back into the buggy and head for home. He ran along the sidewalk, avoided bumping into Clementine Hawkins and Roy Coffee as they were standing talking together (or rather, one was talking while the other was listening) and waved over to the sheriff who was leaning against the doorframe of his offices, and reached the Canaday home just as Ann opened the front door.
…………

Roy Coffee stroked his moustache and walked slowly away from the garrulous Mrs Hawkins. As if it wasn’t enough that he had to listen to his sister Rachel yammering away every hour of the day back home, but he had to get collared by the widow as soon as he had stepped outside his door.

He shook his head, life had changed so much during the past months since his retirement. He narrowed his eyes and took out his spectacles in order to see what he was looking at more clearly. Of course he had to retire, there was no sensible option because he was old, and when one got old then things didn’t function quite as sharply or quickly. He crossed the road, avoided getting run over by old Cruickshanks horse and wagon, and reached the other side of the road without incident. His feet just naturally took him to the sheriff’s office where Candy was standing in the door way.

“Good day to you, Roy.”

“Hmph, g’day, young man. Anything exciting happening around here lately?” Roy raised his chin, glared at Candy - mainly to get him more clearly in focus - and waited.

Candy smiled “Why not come into the office and have a cup of coffee, Roy. We can have a jaw together as it’s pretty quiet just now.”

Roy pretended to mull that over, as though he had a thousand other things that needed his real attention, then nodded and followed Candy into the office. He looked around and felt that familiar sinking feeling in his stomach. It happened every time he stepped into the place that had once been more like home than anywhere else, all that he had known so well was still there, but - different.

Candy was a neat, tidy and efficient young man. Like his daughter he liked to be methodical and precise in what he did and the office now reflected his character. It was clean, bright and appeared bigger than previously because he kept everything in its proper place. Roy both envied him and felt aggrieved by him. Dodds appeared from the cells and nodded over at his former ‘boss’, “Hi, Roy.”

“Dodds.” Roy nodded and watched the deputy stroll outside, “Doesn’t he have any work to do?”

“He’s done what’s necessary for the day. He’s got his early evening rounds to do now, and then he can go home. Clem’s stayed on as deputy, you know?”

“Huh? Oh,yes, I heard tell he had, good job too, he’s a fine man.”

“He is…” Candy smiled and indicated a chair for the ex-sheriff to sit upon, “Coffee?”

Roy nodded and was almost immediately handed a mug of the brew, strong and sweet smelling. He sniffed it, and nodded, another familiar part of his life but when he tasted it, he had to acknowledge that even that was improved on what he used to have on offer.

“So? Everything’s quiet?” he muttered.

“At present.” Candy said with a nod of the head and sipped his coffee, “I hadn’t realise just how quiet upholding the law in town could be … apart from the drunks at night, and the brawling and fighting that we have to break up. Got old McInnes in the cells again right now.”

“Oh, drunk huh?”

“Very much so.” Candy grinned, “Broke two windows last night after he was thrown out of the Silver Dollar.”

“The haberdashery and Gents Outfitters I bet?”

“S’right.” 

“He must have had a skinful, it was always those windows he’d smash when he’d had a skinful.” Roy muttered as he buried his face into his cup and gulped down more coffee.

“Mmm,” Candy nodded “Tell me, Roy, what do you recall of a man called Harry Cochrane?”

Roy lowered his cup slowly, narrowed his eyes and looked at the younger mans earnest face “Cochrane?”

“Harry Cochrane.” Candy repeated with a nod of his head.

For a moment Roy sat in silence then he nodded “I remember putting him behind bars years ago. He was sentenced to be hanged for murder but it was changed to life imprisonment due to some reason I don’t rightly recall jest now. Why?”

“I had a cable from the Yuma Territorial Prison that he had escaped last week. Last word they had on him was that he was headed this way.”

Roy pursed his lips and nodded “He always swore if he got out he’d come for me… blamed me for getting him locked up, y’see. Couldn’t seem to accept that because he’d murdered some folk he deserved to hang.”

“He’s been in prison for seven years now, Roy. That’s long enough for a man to do a whole lot of stewing about grievances.”

“Wal, guess you’re right at that, Candy.” Roy nodded and rose to his feet, “Thank you for letting me know.”

“I’ll be keeping my eyes and ears open, Roy. You won’t be going unprotected, believe me.”

“Yeah, well, sure… thanks, Candy.”

The old man shook the sheriff’s hand and then picked up his hat, he left the office and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Just as in days past he walked to the edge of the boards and stood there awhile, looked up and down the street to observe what was happening and who was about before he began to walk towards the house he shared with his sister. He smiled slightly and felt a bounce to his step, for the first time since his retirement he felt that tingle of excitement that had been missing out of his life for so long. Danger, that’s what he had loved , it had been like the best news he’d had in an age… something to look out for, something that gave life an edge to it. It was good to be alive to enjoy it again.

Chapter 24

Hanging from the bough of a tree the anaconda barely moved as they passed so close by, near enough for them to have reached out a hand to touch its thick glistening body. Yates shuddered at the sight and kept a wary eye until well away from it, following Adam and Qu’an while doing so. He could never get used to seeing them, or to feeling the intense heat, or the buzzing of the insects. He hated it all and when Qu’an stopped to indicate time to rest Mark Yates was more than grateful, even though he believed they were still closer to the snake than he’d have liked.

As he sat down he noticed Morton and Adam standing apart from himself and Qu’an, he was too tired to be interested in what they were saying and sunk his head between his hands in an effort to think. Jotham Morton meantime turned to Adam to ask him how much further they would have to go.

Jotham’s voice seemed to come from quite a distance because Adam didn’t respond immediately, then he turned to the other man and gave a slight shrug of the shoulders “I don’t know, Jotham. Qu’an seems like a clam whenever I ask him.” he sighed and squatted down by the small fire that they’d built, he twisted a small twig between his fingers and after glancing quickly over at the Indian murmured “We’re in his hands at the moment.”

“Do you trust him?”

Another shrug of the shoulders before Adam replied “I have to.”

“It’s a strange assignment, isn’t it, sir?”

“Well, no stranger than having to go to Alaska to find a list of names on a piece of paper.” he smiled slowly, and tossed the twig into the flames, “If everything was cut and dried there would be no need for people like us to be sent into places like this, would there?”

“I guess not.”

“That reconnaissance you did with Yellend, did you question why you were there at all?”

“Had no need to, Captain, it was pretty straightforward after all.” 

Adam grimaced and drew in his breath “I’ve learned never to assume anything is straightforward when it comes to politics and anything to do with this part of the world has to do with politics, believe me, Jotham, there was more to reconnaissance on that mission than you’d realise.”

“I’m not exactly naïve, sir.”

“I’m not saying you are, just that when we get orders, we obey them and by the end of the assignment we should get the answers to most of our questions - or doubts - whichever category you choose.”

Jotham bowed his head and pursed his lips as he thought over the officers words, then he glanced up and asked Adam if his cousin, Daniel O’Brien, had ever questioned his orders to which Adam nodded, “Of course he did, he was an intelligent man, and intelligent men don’t like being treated like a child in being told to do this and that without some clear indication as to why. Unfortunately, in the services that is often what we have to do…”

“When you heard about what happened to him, and Maria -” Jotham glanced quickly at Adams’ face before lowering his gaze once again “Were you surprised?”
“It made no sense to me whatsoever, a wanton waste of life and cruel …” Adam bit down on his bottom lip then stood up and walked to a tree against which he leaned, he crossed his arms and stared for a moment at what could be seen of the sky, “I couldn’t understand why it had happened, and then when I found out it seemed so callous. The Lebedev and Pelman situation had been resolved, why the retaliation after so long?”

“I asked Marek - you remember? - the Russian I took into custody and who committed suicide? I asked him why they had killed O’Brien and how could he have been party to it, after all, he seemed a reasonable man.” Jotham ignored the snort of contempt that his superior gave, and walked the few paces to stand by his side “Marek said that had been their orders, and soldiers obey their orders or face the death penalty. When I mentioned that there had been innocent children killed, he just replied that in Russia and Poland the bodies of children freeze in the streets during the winter because there is no food for them. You have to step over those bodies as though they don’t exist. But as a soldier he has money he can send to his family so that they don’t have to starve, and if he dies while on active duty then they receive a pension. He said that there was no room for sentiment.”

“And then, like a good Russian, he killed himself.” Adam said slowly and Jotham nodded, sighed and returned to the fire.

Qu’an listened to the murmur of the white men’s voices and continued to stare into the distance where the shadows were darkest and all was as yet unknown. His squat figure remained still and stoic, what he was thinking about no one would know although it also ran along the lines of duty, obedience and discipline.

“It’s hard to imagine this place as Eden, don’t you think?” Adam murmured as he also strolled back to the fire where the smoke succeeded to some extent in reducing the number of mosquitoes.

“The last place on earth I would consider as Eden.” came the rather bitter response.

“It must be something like that for Sokolovich though, he was finding a treasure trove of herbs and plants that would cure the ills of the world, according to Scolley’s notes and what Radamsky said.”

“I suppose once we’ve found them, we’ll get the answers to our questions… is that right, sir?”

“Our assignment is to find just one man, and take him back to America, but until then, we just have to keep trusting in Qu’an, and keep our strength up.”

There was a rustle of leaves and without a word Qu’an was standing in front of them, he nodded and pointed southwards. It was time to move on.
…………

The Indian guide moved as though by instinct brushing aside creepers and vines, seemingly impervious to mosquitoes and any other insect that happened to come his way. He cut through anything that prevented him walking forwards with his machete, and without once turning his head to check that the three white men were still close behind him.

Small snakes slithered across their path, huge spiders swung on their silken threads from one web to another. Mark Yates shivered as the wet cloth of his shirt touched his burning skin, he wasn’t sure just how much further he was going to be able to continue on this journey but was too afraid to say anything. Stubbornly he put one foot in front of the other and prayed for the time when the command came to stop and make camp.

The sounds of the river had long faded although there were large pools still remaining and becoming stagnant where ever they looked. Qu’an threaded his way through them as easily as they could negotiate a main road in their home town. Smells drifted all around them that were both repellent and lovely, among the damp rotting leaves of plants that were not so long ago under water, beautiful and exotic blooms flowered, their colours like bright suns glimmering in the darkness of night.

Stunted trees that Mark informed them were referred to as scrub trees grew in thickets, usually close to the riverbanks but after the rains had stopped would spring up anywhere the water had reached and remained. Often they grew so closely together that the top boughs seemed to lean across to touch and grow into each other thus forming dark and dank avenues from which they would emerge into dappled light that would momentarily confuse their eyes.

As he walked Adam thought over the conversation he’d had with Jotham, and realised yet again how much he missed having Daniel along with him on this trip. The Russians’ reasons for the O’Briens’ deaths he dismissed, although he understood why it had been said. In war there were victims, and oftentimes children were the most vulnerable and saddest of them, but in Adams eyes the O’Brien family were not victims of war, it had been a cold and calculated murder.

Thinking over the situation as it currently appeared Adam could well understand Jothams constant concerns about the assignment.  Too many people had become involved in what had appeared initially a straightforward mission, Radamsky’s absence niggled at him like a worm on a hook. He had to tell himself that just as he had told Jotham, when the time came and the men had been found, then they would get the answers they sought, perhaps not all of them, but enough .

That night they made camp close to a tributary of the river. By the firelight Adam re-read Scolleys notes in case he had missed anything that would provide some indication of this expeditions importance to three nations. Their rations were meagre so eaten carefully, while he read and kept surveillance Jotham and Mark slept. Qu’an simply disappeared into the shadows which caused Adam no worries as he knew the man would appear when needed come the morning.

During the night Jotham took over the watch and Adam dosed. The heat and humidity were enough to bring on dreams about camels and flies so that when he woke up he felt dry mouthed and uncomfortable with a savage longing to be home on the Ponderosa.

He had just risen to his feet when he became aware that they were no longer alone. Qu’an was standing not far from him with several other Indians, all of similar shape and size as their guide, some younger, one definitely much older. Mark Yates was scrambling to his feet, gathering up his belongings and Jotham was whispering his apologies in Adams ear, telling him that they had suddenly appeared as though out of thin air.

Seeing that he had the white mens attention Qu’an nodded “Come.” was all that he said, before turning to follow the other Indians along a narrow trail that led into the dark interior.

They walked along a narrow dirt path in single file for an hour by which time Mark Yates was muttering beneath his breath about the stink of the place, how much he loathed snakes and spiders and almost every other living thing in his vicinity at the present time. Jotham kept wiping sweat from his brow to prevent it gathering on his eyebrows and into his eyes while his shirt hung on him wet enough to need wringing out. Adam realised that the leg he had injured during the Jiang Peng affair was now aching severely and no matter how he tried to disguise the fact he was already beginning to limp.

The trees thinned out and they became aware of other smells, of smoke and food cooking, of human habitation . It took another ten minutes before they stepped into a large clearing where several huts huddled together to form a small village. Children running about and playing stopped to turn and stare at them, then followed them until they came to a halt.

Qu’an and the old man began to talk in a dialect that none of the white men understood, then their guide pointed to a hut that was in a shaded area which was obviously where they were expected to go and wait for the leader to communicate with them.

Mark Yates looked woefully around before whispering words to the effect that they were no doubt making plans on how to cook them and shrink their heads which Adam dismissed as rubbish. Women peered from their huts, some ventured out to look at them with curiosity. These were the first white men they had seen and young mothers called to their children who ran from their play to the safety of the huts.

Jotham and Adam kept their own eyes fixed on Qu’an and the older man who were still talking animatedly together.  Yates nervously found himself swatting flies and mosquitoes while his eyes wandered occasionally over to where the women peeked out from their huts along with their children.

Once the women’s curiosity was satisfied they returned to their work while the children ran back into the compound to play, casting inquisitive glances over at the three visitors who sat at the entrance of the hut they’d been sent to, it seemed as though time hang heavily in the smoke laden air.

 

Chapter 25 

A yellow dog came and sat opposite them and began to methodically scratch between his ears with his hind leg. Not long after his arrival two children came holding out bowls to these white strangers with big grins on their faces showing that like children everywhere they had reached the age when teeth fell out leaving wide gaps for new ones to grow.

Adam signed an enquiry as to the contents of the bowls…were they for eating? The children giggled and shook their heads, one gestured that it was to put on the body, to prevent the bugs biting. Yates grabbed one bowl immediately, he had removed his boots and had been massaging his aching feet until then but the hope of relief from the bites was music to his ears.

Qu’an was talking to one of the village elders, squatting round a fire and eating some food that looked rather like a lizard on a stick. Women began to go about their business, like their men they were short and heavily built, but they also wore elaborate tattoo’s all over their bodies. Adam and Jotham looked at one another as though to signify that no matter how interesting they appeared it was best not to look as it was all the women wore and for men raised in a society where the glimpse of an ankle could appear shocking - well, perhaps - they averted their eyes as best they could.

Yates had prepared for the journey with a bountiful supply of notepads, and he was scribbling more notes down, sketching in the sights he was seeing and appearing very blasé about the nakedness of the women. When two young and very attractive young women appeared with bowls of foods for them Adam and Jotham found it hard to know where to look, but Yates didn’t seem to have any problem. 

“D’you see many naked women then in your part of London?” Jotham asked sarcastically as he dipped his fingers into the meat and stuffed his mouth with something that tasted like pork.

“Blimey, of course not.” Yates laughed, “But doesn’t mean I don’t know what a woman looks like, anyway, seeing as you’re sailors I’d imagine you’d seen your fair share of nubile young ladies?”

Jotham laughed and Adam just turned his head away with a slight grin as he chewed on the meat and the stringy root vegetables. A boy came with a gourd of water for them, and surprisingly it was pure and clean, tasting sweet to the mouth and refreshing.

“I wonder what all the talk’s about?” Adam murmured as he indicated his concerns with a nod of the head over at the group of men chatting to Qu’an

“They’re not the same tribe, are they?” Jotham said, “Different hair dressing, that red paint over their faces doesn’t do much for their appearance.”

Adam nodded and sat cross legged with his hands clasped together. In most other societies he would have got up and introduced himself but there was little point to that with people this primitive. They needed to converse with those they were familiar with, and three white men of whatever social standing they were back in their own countries, meant nothing to them.

Night was gathering when Qu’an finally approached and squatted in front of them. He looked from one to the other of them before finally addressing Adam “They not see any other whites on the river. They unknown even to Teran, speak different words. They afraid of white man. You - different - . You stay here, not move. We go early when sun come back.”

Yates spoke then, his words sharp “Are we lost? Have we gone far from the trail?”

Qu’an looked at him thoughtfully then again at Adam “Not lost. Indian here new to place. Not stay long. Go back into far off by mountains.”

Adam nodded, thanked Qu’an and together with Jotham went into the hut, “Best get some sleep while we can. At least we won’t be bothered with mosquitoes.”

“Perhaps Sokolovich will have found those herbs and will produce a medicine to protect mankind from mosquitoes.” Jotham grinned as he settled down on the hard ground, he sighed slightly and after a moments pause asked Adam if he could make any sense as to why they had been sent on this assignment.

“I’m still trying to make sense of it.” Adam replied laconically.

Yates entered now and found a place to sleep, putting his satchel under his head as a pillow. The small hut retained the heat and it was uncomfortable, but the long walk through terrain that none of them were familiar with had taken its toll, it was not too long before they had fallen asleep.

………

The previous inhabitant of the White House and President of the United States, U.S. Grant, lit a cigar and looked through the flame of the match at the man sitting opposite him. He then leaned back and exhaled smoke, a ritual that Hamilton Fish was familiar with and which certainly didn’t bother him. Grant flicked the match into an ashtray and narrowed his eyes “What on earth was the point of sending Cartwright to Brazil? Of all the unlikeliest places…”

“Not as unlikely as you would think, sir, in fact, the perfect person really.” Fish gave a slight smile and the skin around his eyes crinkled as a result.

Grant gave his previous Secretary of  State a dark glare and bowed his head “I suppose you would see it that way, he’s got an uncanny ability to find the things Governments have lost.”

 

Fish condescended another smile and a shrug “Jotham Morton has also been sent along with him to find Professor Jefferson for this - er - current administration.”

 

“Morton?” Grant looked blank and frowned “Do I know him?”

 

“He’s useful, we rather stole him from naval duties  to work for a department of our own.   He knows what to do, a good man, and he’s known Cartwright for some years now.”

 

“So, three scientistss from three different countries all specialising in their own fields of excellence and apparently lost.”

 

“Baron Radamsky proved very helpful to us in that respect.”

 

“Radamsky - who’s he?”

 

“The Russian Sokolovich’s brother in law.” Fish replied with a patience honed to perfection from long servitude to Grant, he leaned back in his chair, “He contacted our Department some months ago requesting assistance in locating Sokolovich, there were concerns about the length of time since they had heard from him.  Not helped, of course, by all this rubbish talk about diamonds and lost cities.”

 

“Yes, all rubbish of course.” Grant blew out  smoke from his cigar and stared to the ceiling, “And so you realised that where Sokolovich was, Jefferson would not be far behind.”

 

“Correct, Mr Grant.  They’d been known to work together for some years now, good friends for a long time.  Once we knew that the Russian was in Brazil, it was just a matter of finding the right people to go there and bring Jefferson back home.”

 

“Howard Jefferson.” Grant sighed and for a moment stared blankly at the far wall, “He’s a pleasant, honest man. That’s what I thought back then and that’s how I view him today. I can’t believe that …” he stopped himself and drew hard on his cigar, exhaled a cloud of smoke through which he peered with narrowed eyes “Do they know exactly what is involved?  Cartwright and Morton?

 

“What do you mean, sir?”

 

“Do either of them know exactly why we - or rather the present administration as you so tactfully call it - why they want to bring Howard back here ?”

 

“No, I doubt they would have been told anything at all.  They’ve been given orders, and will obey them, there’s nothing more they need to know.”

 

Grant frowned and shook his head “Considering the kind of man his brother was …but at the time of OUR administration Senator Jefferson was involved in some sensitive matters involving our country, we couldn’t touch him.  Now of course, times have changed.”

 

“Situations have changed, sir.”

 

“Undoubtedly.  It would not have been wise for some people today to have a man like Sackville Jefferson creeping out of every closed closet in town, would it?”  Grant’s brows lowered so that his eyes almost disappeared, “All this talk about diamonds and gold mines that has been used to cover up the real reason for our expedition … I don’t think that was wise, could have all kinds of people crawling through those swamps looking for what isn’t there to be found.  Makes it an even more dangerous place for our men.”

 

“That’s why Cartwright has been sent, as we know from long experience, he’s one man that won’t take a bribe or have his head turned by the promises of ill gotten riches.”

 

“The thing is, with Cartwright,” Grant inhaled again, coughed some more, “as we know all too well, is that he does tend to get battered and bashed about rather a lot, look what happened to him in China?  Nearly got himself killed.  Took forever to get better. And that Cassandra Pelman affair, that nearly saw the end of him as well.”

 

Fish said nothing to that, he wasn’t interested in hearing about whether or not Adam Cartwright was going to get himself bashed and battered about, on this trip.   He was only interested in anything that Adam Cartwright would find out that would further America’s interests.  He reached out to pick up a glass of fine malt whisky and sipped it, observed  Grant  closely and wondered how much longer Julia Grant would allow her husband to smoke himself much closer to death and frowned “How are you enjoying  life out of the public eye, sir?”

 

“Never  better,” Grant grinned roguishly, “I’m writing my memoirs.”

 

“You’ll be the first American President to do so, sir.”

“Never better.” Grant grinned roguishly, “I’m writing my memoirs.”

“You’ll be the first American President to do so, sir.”

“I know.” Grant laughed, a shout of a laugh containing a shade of the man he was when he ordered Atlanta to be razed to the ground all those years back. Fish sighed, and for a moment panicked as he wondered what sleeping dogs Grant was going to rouse from slumber with his ’Memoirs’. 

For a moment the two men enjoyed their whiskey and silence, then Grant stubbed out his cigar and stood up, clasped his hands behind him and walked to the window of the big room in which they were seated. He bowed his head “Cartwright resigned not so long ago.”

“He was told that it would be kept in mind…”

“Mmm, he has a wife and children now.”

“He gets a good salary, and his pension will take care of them if anything happens to him.”

“That’s being rather callous.” Grant muttered glancing over his shoulder at the other man.

“Pragmatic perhaps, not callous.” Fish replied and swirled the liquid in the glass, round and round, watching it as it caught the light and gleamed “There have been many good men pass through our hands over the years, Mr Grant. Brave and talented, just as much, if not more, than Captain Cartwright.”

“I’ve always had an admiration for him.” Grant sighed and resumed his gaze from the window, “Something about him caught my attention from the first. I’d like him to return home to his wife and family safely.”

“I never could understand why you had such an -” he paused, affection would be the wrong word, he struggled to find an alternative “Captain Cartwright’s a strong minded character, obstinate and stubborn to an extreme.”

“Probably why I liked him so much and why you lot know he won’t take a bribe …” Grant grinned. “He’s also brave and resourceful with an uncanny instinct to sniff out what smells bad … which I presume is what everyone is relying upon now.”

“Of course.” Fish shrugged, “Not that it matters much to us anymore.”

Grant sighed, raised his eyebrows and returned, slowly, to his chair. He sunk down into it as though grateful for its sturdy arms, and looked at his old associate thoughtfully, “You always thought Custer was America’s hero, didn’t you?”

“No more than many others did.” Fish replied quietly and emptied the glass, set it back down on the table. “He didn’t live up to what was expected.”

“He lived up to everything that was expected of him, Fish. He was what he was, and we knew it, but we still gave him his head and let him ride to his death with all those men.”

“And now he’s an American hero in every sense of the word.” Fish smiled.

“Yes, he’s dead … you have to be dead, it seems, to be an American hero.” and Grant sighed long and loudly.

……….

Alfred Stone was stocky in build, florid of face and balding, but what hair he did still possess was abundant and curled rather pleasantly over his collar. He had piercing blue eyes and a sharp beak of a nose, a face that indicated strength and character. He was wealthy, having made his money in wise investments back east. 

He stood by the window of the room he was renting out in the Whitney Hotel and looked down upon the busy streets of Virginia City. He watched people as they went about their business but more than anything else he watched a particular house tucked modestly away, almost out of sight When he saw a woman leave the building in company with an elderly man who was once Virginia City’s sheriff, he allowed himself a brief smile. His eyes followed the couple as they walked along, not arm in arm or holding hands, no a brother and sister, no matter what their ages, would not walk together like that, and he smiled again as he watched them step into the Mercantile store.

Chapter 26

Qu’an was sitting crosslegged close to the dwelling when Adam stepped out into the compound the following morning. After a quick glance around him he caught the Terina’s eye and nodded “They’ve gone then?”

Qu’an said nothing but something in his eyes indicated that he was thinking a lot about what he would have liked to have said so Adam just nodded and returned to the interior of the hut, stood in silence for a moment while he thought over the situation and then went to where Jotham was still sleeping. He shook the younger man by the shoulder and when Jotham was looking up at him ordered him to get up and ready, “We leave in the next fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes?” Jotham spluttered and yawned, shook himself as though to rattle his brain into action and scratched his head while he watched Adam walk out of the hut with his kit in his hand. 

Still yawning he went to where Yates was snoring and shook him awake “Get up, Yates, we have to leave here in 15 minutes.”

“We what? Are you joking?”

“No, just get up and stop wasting time.”

Yates blinked like some old owl and then scratched his head, yawned, stretched and struggled to wake up. He was used to a life full of activity such as hearing the noise

of traffic roaring past his house, going to the theatre, going places where he could pick up news, getting well paid for what he ‘turned in’. He yawned again, and regretted yet again ever considering a follow up to the Scolley story.

At that moment in time he didn’t know who or what he hated most… Adam Cartwright, his Editor, Scolley or being where he was, which was a place he’d prefer not to be. He stumbled out of the hut and the dappled sun hit him in the eyes so that he had to raise a hand to provide some shade. Looking around he noticed the absence of the Indians and asked where they had gone, to which Jotham replied “Probably couldn’t stand the way you were ogling their women.”

Adam turned and regarded the two other men thoughtfully, as though he was wondering how it was that he happened to be stuck with both of them. He was shaving as calmly as though he had been back home in his own bathroom. “They left because we were here. No other reason.” he nodded over towards the hut “There’s food there, they left it for us, obviously of the opinion we can’t fend for ourselves.”

Yates frowned and watched Adam pass a razor over his jaw, flick away the lather and continue to shave. He shook his head, and walked over to where several small packages covered or wrapped in large leaves had been left. He slowly unpeeled one and raised the white meat it contained to his nose “Do you know what it is?”

Adam shrugged “Probably crocodile. It’s good, it’ll help keep you going through the day.”

Yates rubbed his face and yawned again “What’re we doing today?”

“The same that we did yesterday, we’re walking…” Adam wiped his face dry and then cleaned his razor which he slipped into a sheath and placed along with his kit. 

Within another ten minutes they were walking behind Qu’an in single file. Each of them careful as to where they placed their feet, watchful of what could fall from the trees down their necks or of any other creeping crawling thing that could do them harm. The mosquitoes bothered them less, although there was always some persistent brave bug who succeeded in nipping in and leaving its mark.

Yates felt his head swimming with the heat, the noise of the animals, the birds, the buzz of insects. He was never sure of where to step, when to duck down, what to do or say next. More than ever he wished he were back in London dodging the traffic and able to drop into the local alehouse for a beer. He couldn’t even be bothered to jot down any notes, everything had just seemed to merge into an overheated hot house of misery.

Even when they came across a clearing covered with hundreds of butterflies with luminescent wings of green or blue Yates couldn’t be bothered to really notice and admire the beauty of them. The shimmering wings covered trees and ground all around them and when they took off in flight the effect was dazzlingly beautiful. Adam told himself to remember the moment in order to tell his family when he returned home, but Yates just shivered and thought what a rotten life it must be to be any kind of explorer.

Jotham trudged along deep with thoughts of his own. He tried to recall how Daniel had told him about the Alaskan adventure and how they had forced t heir way through a frozen tundra with a blizzard blowing. Then he had raised his eyes to the dappled blue sky showing through the branches of many trees and wished for a blizzard right there and then.

At mid-day they stopped to eat a little more crocodile meat and wash it down with water from their canteens as well as to take some salt. Adam had insisted that they took salt from the Mendes supplies as Euan had warned him that the more they sweated, the more natural salts left their bodies, and if they didn’t take precautions then they would suffer the consequences.. Cramping pain and fever.

Late in the afternoon Qu’an paused in mid-stride and raised a hand before sinking down upon his haunches, followed by Adam, the other two men did likewise automatically. Adam withdrew his gun from its holster and strained his ears and eyes to notice whatever it was the Indian had heard or seen. 

Above the sounds of the jungle he heard a sigh, a moan… like whispers in the background of so many other noises. He glanced over his shoulder to catch Jotham and signalled to him to follow his lead. Slowly and carefully he made his way, crouching, through the undergrowth until he reached an area that had been trodden down by others having been there beforehand and making a rudimentary camp. He glanced around him and then saw her, no one else only her.

Jacquetta Mandes lay with her clothing ripped and bloodied, her black hair covered her face which, when they had gently brushed the hair aside, was revealed to be a mass of injuries, of bruises and blood. It was obvious that the men had abused her physically as well as sexually and then tossed her aside like a discarded toy thing. Jotham poured precious water from his canteen into his hand to wash her face but Adam shook his head “There’s no point, Jotham, she’s dead.”

The womans dark eyes seemed still to hold her fear within them, her face the starkness of her terror. He looked at the clear water puddled in his palm and raised it to his own face, drank some and washed the rest around his neck. Adam shook his head and gently set her back down on the ground “We’ll have to bury her here.”

Jotham nodded and called Yates over, the Englishman looked at Mrs Mendes and shook his head in disbelief “What happened?”

“The men you paid to bring you out here …” Adam said with ice in every word, “You can see for yourself what happened.”

Qu’an stood on one leg patiently waiting as they buried her, scooping out from the soft soil a shallow bed in which she could rest. Then he waited a while longer as Adam said a short prayer before the trek recommenced.

Yates stepped into line with Jotham “Why would they do that to her?”

“Because they have no sense of decency for a start.” Jotham snorted with contempt. “Look what they did to her husband? You were fortunate that you weren’t killed.”

Yates ran a damp cloth around his neck and throat “She didn’t know anything, there was nothing she could have told them.”

Adam turned his head “Jefferson was ill, she nursed him.”

“Yes, but - but that doesn’t mean that he told her anything.”

“He may not have told her anything intentionally, but in a fever things can be said, too much can be implied.” Adam said quietly, “It’s hard to keep your tongue under control when you’re raving with fever.”

Yates nodded and frowned “She never said anything about it to me. Nothing at all.”

Jotham shrugged “She hardly went willingly …”

“No,” Yates sighed and shook his head “No, she screamed and fought to get away. I remember -” he bit his lips and again shook his head “I didn’t do anything to help, nothing, I just ran to save my own skin. That poor woman, if I’d known…”

“You’d have done just the same, it’s called self preservation.” Jotham muttered, but even as he said it he wished that Mrs Mendes hadn’t been left and abandoned, not to men who treated her as they had done.

Mark Yates said nothing more, for the remainder of the trek he kept silent. When it was time to make camp at last he gratefully settled down close to the fire, pulled off his boots and began to slowly massage his feet. He watched as Adam and Jotham sat close and talked in low tones making him feel isolated and in effect shut out from what was going on. Eventually he took out the inevitable note pad and began to jot down some notes, several times raising his head to look around him as though he were trapped in a nightmare and didn’t know how to get out. 

“So, Mr Yates,” Adam stood close by looking down at him while holding out a bowl of food which Yates accepted with a murmured thanks, “Do you think your London readers will find the death of an unknown woman of any interest to them?”

His tone of voice held a slight edge, as though he felt the death and abuse the poor woman had suffered being made into an article to titillate readers miles away was adding to her indignities. Mark sighed and looked at the food, then looked up at him “I don’t know, Captain. I only know that writing about what is happening helps me to keep sane. This place gives me the willies…” he scowled at the blank look on Adam’s face “it gives me the creeps. Always having to look out for things that - what was that?” he nearly dropped the bowl as a rumbling growl could be heard nearby, a growl that grew louder until it became a full throated roar.

“Probably a jaguar, they’re common in this part of the swampland.” Adam replied and squatted down upon his haunches so that he was face to face with the man “You know, I still can’t figure out where you fit into the picture here. One moment pretending to be a representative of the British Government, and then -” he made a sweeping gesture with his hands, gave a slight pout and raised his eyebrows “It makes me wonder if there was an actual Government representative and if there was, what happened to him?”

Yates shrugged and shook his head “I don’t know, Captain. I came to follow up on a story, Radamsky introduced himself and scared the daylights out of me.” he paused for a moment and from the way his eyes blanked it was obvious to Adam that the man was struggling to remember something significant. After some seconds had passed he nodded “I didn’t know there would be any representatives of any Governments there, I was just going to where my Editor told me, and then this Russian geezer comes up, introduces himself and talks as though he expected me to be the British representative. It seems to me that he must have known there would be some chap from England in that role, just assumed it was me.”

“Then why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

“Because he seemed so convinced, that’s why, and I ‘aven’t dealt with that many Russians before, and to be honest, Captain, I don’t think I want to deal with any more. There was something - sinister - about him.”

Adam frowned, then nodded and released his breath. “So if Radamsky was so sure there was -” he paused and looked thoughtfully at Yates, “which would mean -” his brown eyes stared into Yates’ face and then he stood up “You should have told him the truth, Yates. You got yourself into more of a mess than you can handle by not doing so, and the real Government official could be dead or wandering around lost somewhere.”

“Well, my Editor told me to do everything possible to get a good story. Believe me, Captain, I’m a good journalist and I intend to make this a real cracker!”

Adam’s nose thinned as he looked down it at the Englishman, then he shook his head, “Just eat your food before it gets too cold, Mr. Yates.”

He strode away, but after several paces stopped and looked back “Tell me something, did Radamsky refer to you by name when he first met you?”

“How’d you mean?”

“Well, if he was expecting someone from England to be there he must have known the name of the contact .. Or did he just introduce himself and appear ignorant of the name?”

Yates shrugged “He just came up to me, said ‘You are expecting me perhaps? You are English?’” he rubbed around his mouth slowly and narrowed his eyes, “He introduced himself then, which is when I got the collywobbles, being a Baron, and a Russian, and a Government official, I mean what was I to do? I just said that yes, I was English, was he expecting me and he said he was if I had come about the missing scientists. Then he said he was looking for his brother in law, Sokolovich. He didn’t say any name at all.”

“He didn’t appear surprised when you told him who you were?”

“I told you already,” Yates said tersely as though irritated by the constant repetition of the fact “I told him I was Mark Yates. That was all. As it happens he knew just about as much as I did about the matter, even though he had been there a few days before I had arrived.” he shrugged “Now - can I get on with my food?”

Adam nodded and said nothing more but continued on his way to where Jotham was sitting. In the distance monkeys chattered, there was the roar of the big cat and the monkeys screeched, silence fell for a short while until a bird began to warble and the monkeys, calmed a little, returned to their chatter.

Chapter 27

The music from the piano trickled through the house, the young woman sat intent upon her playing, her fingers moving perfectly over the keyboard. An infant played contentedly with his toys near by, his toes wriggling as though in tune with the music his mother was playing.

Not far from him another infant chewed contentedly on the ear of a worn out ragged rabbit, stopping every so often to look around her to find her mother before returning to her chewing… getting new teeth was always something of an ordeal and a good gnaw at something was some help, even if only temporary.

A baby slept in a wicker work basket close to the hearth lulled to sleep by the music and the peaceful surroundings of the light filled room.

Hester stitched industriously at the quilt spread out over her lap, her head bowed as her needle plied in and out of the material. Every so often she would raise her head and pause in her work in order to listen to Mary Ann’s music, then she would smile over at Olivia who would smile in return before she also returned to her work.

The needles flashed in the sunlight that shone through the windows, the music drifted around them like some intangible thread bringing day dreams to each one of them. Olivia sighed and looked up to watch as Sofia walked over to the piano and stood by her aunt to watch the busy fingers flitting up and down, touching the black and white keys in just the right places to produce the music.

“I wish I could play music like you, Aunt Mary Ann.” she said quietly, her eyes intent upon the keyboard.

“I could teach you, if you would like, but you would need to practise a lot at home if you want to be a good pianist.” Mary Ann replied with a smile while her fingers continued to play faultlessly.

“Oh could you, could you really?”

“If your mom agrees.” came the answer and a wider smile, at which Sofia gave a gasp of delight and ran over to Olivia “Oh mommy, did you hear? Aunt Mary Ann says I can learn to play like her. Can I, can I, mommy?”

Olivia put down the needle and observed her daughter intently. They had a piano at home, an upright that stood grandly in the main room and which she hardly touched because she felt herself to be a very inexperienced player. When she was first married Robert had purchased the piano for her, taken her to piano recitals, tried to encourage her to develop a talent that she did not possess. She smiled and took hold of her daughter by the hand, “Would you really like to play?”

“Yes, oh yes, mommy.”

Olivia looked over at Mary Ann “Would you have the time, Mary Ann?”

The younger woman nodded, concluded the piece she was playing and rested her hands in her lap before turning to face her sister in law “I’d love to teach her. If she has the talent and ability then it would be a pleasure.” she stood up and walked over to where the other women were working on the quilt, “Hester, do you think Hannah would like to learn as well?”

Hester glanced over to where Hannah was playing with her dolls, lining them up and letting Hope reach out for them before snatching them away before her sister could touch them. “I don’t know, she’s never shown any interest in music. To be honest I think she’s taken after her father and has no musical aptitude at all.”

“Oh dear, that’s a shame.” Mary Ann said as she threaded the needle and then looked over towards the piano, “Sofia, go and have a little play on it, see what you can do.”

Olivia snipped her thread with a pair of scissors, “I was useless at it, perhaps it was because I was already grown up when Robert bought me the piano. I’m afraid that I found it all rather a chore. But, there was so much going on in my life then, so many adjustments to make as a young bride and far away from family.”

Sofia drifted to the piano and began to put her fingers on the keyboard, it wasn;t long before Hannah was standing beside her, but with her hands clasped tightly behind her back as she watched her cousin with large eyes and open mouth.

It was a pleasant day, a time that each woman enjoyed for the chance it gave them to chatter, for the children to be together to share time and play. As the mothers sewed then Hope crawled her way to the settee and pulled her self onto her feet, wobbled a little and then took a few steps towards her mother, Daniel began to grizzle and got to his feet to toddle over to Mary Ann. Hester laughed “I think they’ve decided its time for food.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Mary Ann replied and put her needle away carefully before leaning down to pick Daniel up and swing him onto her lap “I miss Ann. I wish she had been able to come today.”

“She’s not well with this baby,” Hester said quickly in defence of her cousin, “But you’re right, I miss her too.” she sighed, “Perhaps we should extend our sewing group to some others in town?”

“Oh yes, Rachel Darrow for example?” Mary Ann laughed, “I can see her making us unstitch all our work and having to do it again until it comes up to her standards.”

“I suppose Bridie would be too busy to come…” Olivia said quietly, “But then, perhaps Marcy would like to join us?”

Hester smiled and nodded “It would be lovely if she would come. She must be so lonely there on her own so much.”

A wail of grief drifted towards them and they turned to where Hannah was bawling and sucking at her fingers which had been ’nipped’ when Sofia had closed the keyboard lid down on them. Mary Ann sighed and stood up “Right, it really must be time for cookies and cake now….come along, Sofia, you can help me. Olivia, do take Daniel for me or he will cause havoc before I get them to the table.”

Hope clapped her hands, a smile drifted over her face, the words cookie and cake meant food, she was happy. Daniel yelled and struggled to get down onto the floor and escape his aunt’s tight embrace as he saw his mother disappear towards the kitchen. Hannah ran to Hester to show her the bruised finger tips, and was rewarded with a kiss on each one.

Nathaniel slept on, cookies and cake had no significance to him whatsoever. 

…………..

David Watson strolled over to where Reuben Cartwright was eating his lunch, he sat down beside the younger child and looked across the school yard to where a group of boys were huddled beneath the big tree that provided shade for them on hot summer days.

“They causing you any trouble, young Cartwright?” he asked as he slowly polished an apple on his shirt.

“It’s that Downing kid,” Reuben scowled and narrowed his eyes at the ’Downing kid’ who was whispering with sidelong glances over at him, “ He’s saying things -.” he paused and looked at David who not so long ago had been saying much the same insinuations that had caused problems between them. “Still, it doesn’t matter. I can fight my own battles.”

David grinned “Sure you can, you’re a reg’lar fire cracker, aint cha? Just like your Uncle Joe.”

Reuben said nothing to that but chewed on his sandwich, David leaned nonchalantly against the wall of the school house, “You don’t want to let anything they say upset you, kid. They’re just jealous.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a Cartwright, of course.” David grinned, bit into the apple and chomped on it, rather like Buster, Reuben’s horse. “Look, they cause you any trouble you just whistle and I’ll come give you a hand.” he clenched the fist of his free hand “It won’t take much to beat the wind out of his sails, he’s all blubber and talk.”

Reuben laughed and felt a lightening of the anxiety he had been feeling since arriving at school. Annie Sales and Rosie Canady walked over, hand in hand, Rosie really was a town girl now, Reuben thought to himself as he noticed the difference in his ’cousin’.

“Hello Reuben,” Annie said, her eyes large behind her spectacles and freckles standing large over her nose “I got some candy for you.” she held out a bag of assorted goodies and Reuben thanked her politely as he took several out of the bag.

Rosie smiled at him and then at David “Do you want some candy, David?”

She blushed a little, after all David was one of the big boys, he’d be graduating soon and going off to work on his father’s homestead. But even a little girl like Rosie could see that he was good looking and pleasant speaking, he smiled at her and took a humbug, then got up and walked away, looking back at Reuben and giving him a wink of the eye.

Reuben was just enjoying his last piece of candy when a shadow fell across him. He looked up and saw ’The Downing Kid’ standing in front of him, legs wide apart, hands on hips and a smirk on his fat face “How you doing, Reuben Whatever you call yourself.”

“Reuben Cartwright. That’s my name. Reuben Cartwright.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. What was it before then ? ’Cos you ain’t really a Cartwright you know that don’t’cha?”

Reuben stood up slowly, his hands were sweating, he could see other children beginning to group close by, “I know that, Downing, I had a Pa before Ma married -” he paused, he realised he didn’t know how to refer to Adam, should it be Mr Cartwright, or ’my new Pa.’ He tossed his head “Anyhows, I’m called Reuben Cartwright now, so whats it to do with you anyhow?”

“Aw, my Pa -”

“Don’t care what your Pa says. Just shut your mouth, Downing.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna try and make me ? Is that it? Go on then, you try ..”

Reuben clenched his fists and stepped forward, Downing laughed confident that it would be no problem flattening the younger and smaller boy, but when Reubens fist connected with his stomach, and the boys booted foot kicked him in the shin he soon stopped cackling and with a grunt lunged forward.

He didn’t get far, as much as his feet scrabbled in the dirt something prevented him from moving. Reuben stepped away to the side and then David let go of the Downings belt so that under his own momentum the boy staggered forward, found nothing in front of him to prevent him going a few more paces and then falling flat onto the ground.

He lay there for a moment gasping for air for the fall had winded him, but worse of all was the sound of laughter and the drifting away of his supporters. He managed to get to his feet, the bell was tolling, break was over … he dusted himself down and looked for a sight of Reuben Cartwright. He saw the other lad walking up the steps into the building with David Watson behind him, and Annie Sales by his side. 

Red faced and sweating he stomped his way to the building. War, he decided, had been declared!
……………..

Olivia dipped her pen into the inkwell and paused a moment to look at what she had already written. She wondered what Adam would think as he read the letter, one day, far away somewhere. She worried that perhaps he wasn’t really interested in the small details of their lives, in the gossip and the worries and the events that made their little world spin.

Having thought that she began to write a continuation to what had already gone before…

“We are all concerned about Pa. I told you in an earlier letter how he has set his mind to looking out for the family of Martha Frobisher, didn’t I? We have teased him a little and tried to cajole him out of his stubborn refusal to give up on the idea, but he only becomes more determined to go. The cable he received a while ago said there would be a letter but so far there has been nothing and he is getting irritable about it now.

“I think we are worried because it may mean him going away from us for a while, and alone. Who knows what may happen and we may not know anything about it. Perhaps we are being foolish and speculative but Joe and Hoss will be away on the cattle drive, Candy is in town now and busy. Oh my dear, how I wish you were here although I know your Pa would take as little notice of you as he does the rest of us. Why are you Cartwrights such stubborn men?

On a lighter note, Joe has finally got Mary Ann to agree to have some help in the house. So the hunt is on for someone suitable, although I don’t think there will ever be anyone to replace Bridie. Mary Ann has also agreed to teach Sofia to play the piano, and after her first lesson she told me that she thought our little girl had great potential.

I’m afraid Reuben got into a fight at school today and came home with scratches and bumps. Remember how upset I got when he came home after his first fight, that was with Billy Webb wasn’t it? Now I just tell him to clean up in the yard. That sounds as thought it’s a regular occurrence doesn’t it? It isn’t, thank goodness, he hasn’t yet become a second Joseph Cartwright although I sometimes wonder if he is heading in that direction.”

She paused a moment and chewed the end of her pen as she read over what she had written. She remembered the pride she had felt at the praise Sofia received from Mary Ann, and how she had immediately thought of how proud Adam would be when he knew, for he loved music so much himself. Then there was the matter of Ben - if only he had never found that wretched slip of paper. She sighed and picked up her pen once more, dipped it into the ink and made her concluding comments that are really too private for any other eyes but those of her beloved husband.

Chapter 28

They stepped into the clearing and knew that this was the place where Scolley, Sokolovich and Jefferson had been attacked along with who ever still remained of the original party. Not one of them moved although their eyes took in as much detail of the sight. Only Qu’an seemed possessed with the ability to act in any capacity as he strode forward to the centre of the clearing and indicated with the lance the remains of a body. 

The action prompted Adam to step forward and to order Yates and Morton to look around them and see what or who they could find. Possibly they would be able to account for a number of men, even discover if this was indeed the three scientists final location.

With a shudder they discovered that what remained of the bodies had no heads, various limbs were missing and by the evidence of the prints and churned up undergrowth Adam surmised that wild animals had had their share of the victims. What ragged remnants of clothing remained was examined, some private possessions found and looked through, but nothing that led them to think the three men lay among the victims. 

They finally succeeded in finding the remains of twelve men, among that number some were mere youths. The attack had obviously been a sudden ambush by Indians using poison darts to such good use that only a few of the victims had defensive wounds on them, showing that they had made some attempt to fight back. 

The whole area was a mess of decomposing bodies, rags of clothing, dismembered body parts scattered over some distance, some parts they never found and Adam had never expected to. It was a grim and unpleasant discovery and unsurprisingly Yates was violently sick for some while, leaving Adam and Jotham to deal with what they had discovered.

“Most of these men are Brazilian, some Pantaneiro.” Jotham murmured, “What has Qu’an got to say about it? Anything?”

“He said the men were attacked by Guaicuri -”

“They could come back?” Jotham whispered and glanced uneasily over his shoulder at Qu’an who was standing in his usual stance of balancing on one leg and leaning upon his lance. 

“He thinks they have moved on.” Adam frowned “Possibly with the three men.”

“Why didn’t they murder them as well?”

“I don’t know, Jotham. Possibly because they looked different to the Brazilians or -”

“Or?”

“Or perhaps they were told not to.”

“Why? Who’d have told them that?” Jothams brow clouded over and he straightened himself up in order to stand and turn in the direction of some movement from behind him.

Adam didn’t bother to reply after all it had been a random suggestion, a fleeting thought, and he was still dwelling on it when Yates emerged bearing a leather pouch in one hand, “I found this. It’s Sokolovich’s …” he handed it to Adam who opened it and found bundles of herbs and plants, now dry and quite dead but obviously still tied in their neat bundles. A hardbound book with precise notations and sketches written upon the pages gave more proof that it had indeed belonged to the Russian and that this was his catalogue of samples.

“He wouldn’t have left this behind willingly.” Adam said as he held a small bunch of wilted greenery to his nose and inhaled the aroma before replacing it. “Where did you find it?”

Yates was more than willing to show them, and watched Adams face closely in order to interpret the Captains reaction. Adam rubbed the side of his nose thoughtfully “This area is quite dry, the bodies are mostly in the same places where they had fallen although some were dragged a distance by some animal or other predator.”

“The rains didn’t affect this place then?” Jotham suggested.

“Well, not to any great extent,” Adam agreed, and knelt down on one knee in order to see what else could be found among the thick foliage, but there was nothing and he stood up and looked about him, “It doesn’t look as though they were taken in this direction, so the bag wasn’t dropped by him along the way.” 

“The Indians wouldn’t want it, would they?” Yates volunteered and Adam agreed that they wouldn’t but Sokolovich would, he’d not have just dropped it.

He looked up and around him, mentally lamented the fact that Hoss was not with them. He examined the bag and then the plants and shrubs, and then looked at Yates “Where exactly was it?”

“Just here?” Yates said and pointed to a sturdy shrub with large fan like leaves, “It was resting right there.”

Adam tugged at his ear lobe and frowned “Well, seems possible that someone threw it in this direction. Perhaps to keep it safe for whoever came along -”

“Sokolovich? You think he would have done that?” Yates asked immediately.

“May be.” Adam said and led the way back to the clearing where they found Qu’an waiting the them, “Qu’an, no rains here? No big water?”

“No big water here.” Qu’an agreed.

Adam nodded, no floods, no alligators, the dead had fallen and been disturbed by land animals only. He looked around at the spectacle and then looked at Qu’an “You know where Guaicuri are?”

Qu’an was silent for what seemed a long time then he pointed with his lance. .southwards. Jotham and Yates looked at one another and then at Adam who had turned in the direction Qu’an had indicated, it was obvious that there was more walking ahead of them.

For a while Adam walked in silence. He was not overly talkative usually but now Jotham noticed there was even more reticence on his part to talk. After some time had passed he approached his senior officer and asked if he thought it a good idea to be going after the natives who had quite casually despatched twelve men and carried off who knew how many others?

“We’ve been ordered to find Jefferson, Jotham, and that’s what we’re proceeding to do.”

“Yes, but -”

“No but’s, Jotham. There’s really no other alternative, is there?”

Jotham nodded and pursed his lips slightly, he wiped sweat from his brow and looked over his shoulder at Yates who was bringing up the rear in his usual nervous state. “Yates isn’t up to this.”

“He chose to come along, Jotham. What do you suggest we do with him. Leave him here on his own?”

“No, of course not.” Jotham grinned, there was a flash of a resemblance to Daniel as he did so, “He’d be a gibbering wreck in no time if we did that to him.”

Adam looked over at the Englishman and observed that he was trailing further behind, “Are you alright, Yates?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll take a break in a moment.”

“Oh, well, don’t stop on account of me, after all, what does it matter if I collapse any time now from who knows what might strike me down in this blooming awful place.”

“You chose to come along.” Adam reminded him with raised eyebrows as he observed the sweating labouring civilian forcing one step before the other.

“I didn’t think it was going to be like this though, did I?”

“I don’t know what you thought it was going to be like, Yates,” Adam replied and stopped for a moment or two for Yates to catch up with them. 

“Will we be stopping soon?”

Adam glanced up at the sky just peeking through the branches and then at Qu’an who had halted when they had, he nodded, “Yes, we’ll stop here for a while.”

Yates sighed with relief and sunk down onto the ground, then got up quickly and moved away “Ants!”

“That decides it, we’d best walk on.” Adam said and signalled to Qu’an to lead the way.

They had only been walking a few yards when Adam stopped and looked around him, Jotham asked what was wrong, more ants perhaps? “No, well, hopefully not. Look here?” 

His finger indicated where some leaves had been broken, snapped down, the leaves drooping, wilting. He glanced around and pointed to another broken bough, slender though it was it had been bent down “Someone’s passed here ahead of us… these have been deliberately broken.”

“Do you think it was our men?” Jotham murmured 

“I’m hoping it was …” Adam straightened up and looked more thoughtful than ever, Qu’an was waiting, watching them with his black eyes glittering and Adam wondered what was going through the Indians mind at that moment. “Keep your eyes open for anything - anything at all.”

He nodded over to Qu’an and the walking recommenced but the three men walked more slowly now as their eyes scrutinised the leaves, the trees, the shrubs … finally Adam called a halt, Yates was obviously wilting, it was time to make camp.

It was good to rest u p. Yates removed his boots immediately and began to massage his feet, while Adam stretched out his weaker leg and attempted to ease the pain in it. He looked up as Jotham approached and sat down beside him “Captain, I’ve been thinking.”

Adam refrained from a sigh but pursed his lips and nodded “What’s on your mind?”

Jotham licked his lips and his eyes flicked to Adams face, then over at Yates who was rubbing his feet but listening attentively. After a moment he said “It’s just that, like I said before, this is an odd assignment.”

“What’s so odd about it? We’ve been ordered to locate and find Professor Jefferson,, that’s what we’re doing.”

“But -” he brushed back a strand of hair, “But don’t you think it strange?”

“No stranger than some other assignments I’ve been sent on. What exactly is bothering you so much about it?”

“Where’s Radamsky for a start?” Jotham rubbed his chin and then looked over at Yates who had the good sense to look away and stare at some plants “What about the real English agent?”

Adam nodded and scratched at his shirt where some mosquito bites were particularly itchy, “Well, we’re just assuming that there would be an English agent, just as we’re assuming that Radamsky is a Russian one.”

Jotham grimaced and shook his head “What do you mean by that? He said..”

“Anyone can say anything,” Adam replied in that dismissive tone that so often irritated Joe and Hoss, “Look, Yates said he was representing the British Government, but he wasn’t. Radamsky says he was doing likewise for the Russian Government, but I have my doubts about that, although it may be true that he is Sokolovich’s brother in law.”

“I don’t understand.” Jotham sat back on his haunches and narrowed his eyes, again he glanced over at Yates who was showing more interest, he’d stopped rubbing his feet for a start and had an intent look on his face as he observed the two Americans

“Government Agents, or whatever you prefer to call them, are always quite aware of who to expect will be sent by any other country, they usually know more about them than the person himself. But Radamsky didn’t know anything about any Englishman, just latched onto Yates and assumed he was his counterpart. He’d have known Yates wasn’t if he had been a bona fide agent himself. Personally I doubt if Russia or Britain are particularly interested in sending any Government official to look for their men…but a brother in law would be interested, and so would a newspaper who sent our Mr Yates.”

“But - this diamond mine?” Yates blustered, “The lost city ?”

“Rubbish.” Adam dismissed such grandiose ideas with a shrug and opened his kit to take from it Scolley’s notebook, “I’ve read through this book and I can’t find any hint of any diamonds, any lost city. If there are such things then Scolley or someone else fabricated them to get sponsorship for this expedition.”

Yates sank back and leaned against the trunk of a tree “But - why are you here?”

“Because Howard Jefferson is an American citizen and he’s lost, and he’s also related to a very prominent family in Washington and has connections with the new President.” Adam shrugged again.

“Why didn’t you say so before now? I thought it was a matter of life and death …” Yates grumbled, “I thought there were diamond mines and lost cities …I thought..“

“It doesn’t matter what you thought, Yates.   At present it still is a matter of life and death, for them, perhaps for us as well.“  Adam sighed now and stood up, stretched his legs and nodded “Well, we had best get going. We’ll make camp again in two hours unless we find what we’re looking for before then.”

Jotham nodded and glanced at Yates who was pulling on his boots, “Your feet stink.” he muttered as he leaned down to pick up his traps.

“What do you expect after tramping through this place for days on end…” Yates grumbled as he stood up, swung his pack upon his shoulder and turned to Adam “I hope you’re wrong, Captain. I’ve pinned my hopes on finding at least a diamond mine… a lost city would have been better , but…”

“The lives of three men would be better still, Yates. Or are you forgetting them?” Adam said with a chill in his voice as he spoke.

Yates had the grace to look discomfited, he looked at Jotham who turned his head away from him, Adams next comment  jerked them back to reality “My main concern just now is what’s happened to those idiots who brought Mr Yates along on this jaunt? I can’t believe they’ve come along to help look for three lost scientists, do you?”

 

Chapter 29

The letter had been placed in its pristine white envelope on Bens’ desk where Hoss had left it for his father earlier that morning. If he had been tempted to open it and take a peek at its contents he never said, but had just said gruffly to his wife that he hoped it would put an end to his father’s shenanigans. Hester had kept her own counsel and merely smiled as she continued to prepare for her day with the children. 

Life was getting busier now as the spring round up got under way. Men from the Jessops and Dents ranches worked alongside the Ponderosa cattlemen in getting cattle branded and sorted out to take on the long cattle run to Tucson. It was a trip neither Hoss or Joe were looking forward to despite having taken it on for many years now. Being absent from home, wife and family, was something they became increasingly worried about, the fears of not knowing what could be happening to those they loved for so many weeks tore at their nerves even before they had started the trek.

They both knew, and most men in that situation also knew, that once they were started life would continue in its usual way, worries and fears would be put at bay, other factors would take over to be dealt with hour by hour. Feeling sorry for themselves and niggling over matters that may never happen back home was an indulgence they could not afford to dwell upon.

Both men were somewhat irritated by Ben’s attitude to the cattle run this year. The fact that Ben was thinking more about some unknown family, and prepared to go scratching around for information on them which would take him from the family at the busiest time of the year, made both of his sons impatient with him. Worst of all was how Ben smiled and nodded at their reproaches, reminded them that they were grown men with good heads on them, had the ability to run the ranch single handed etc etc only annoyed them more. 

Ben entered the house slowly, his mind on the matters concerning a timber contract that Hoss had agreed with Hal Johnstone, Ben had never liked Johnstone very much and thought him a shifty character who ran up debts and seldom honoured them, not in full anyway. He was more than annoyed with Hoss for getting involved with the man and had decided to let his son know how he felt in strong terms.

“Hoss home?” he snapped at Hester who looked at him in surprise for Ben sounded angry, and she was unaccustomed to seeing him in such a mood. 

“Not at the moment.” she replied, “Is anything wrong?”

“He’s got himself a contract with Hal Johnstone.” Ben growled as he untied his holster and unbuckled his gun belt. He coiled it carefully and set it down on the bureau, “That man always tries to get the cheapest deal and then never honours his debts. In all the years I’ve known him, he has never paid any debt in full. I’ve avoided getting tied up with him and now Hoss has walked right into a contract that the Ponderosa can’t afford to take on.” 

“Hoss would have had a good reason for doing so, Pa.” Hester reasoned and then with a bright smile added “Why not have some coffee while you read your letter.”

He raised his dark eyebrows and grimaced, a downturn of the generous mouth that boded ill for Hoss if he were to walk into the house at that moment. She placed a gentle hand on his arm “I’ll get you the coffee, Hoss left the letter on your desk.”

He nodded and frowned, then kissed her on the cheek with a nod of the head knowing that Hester was doing her best to calm him down and appreciating the fact. He strolled into the study area, picked up the letter and frowned. He weighed it carefully in his hand before going round the desk to sit down in his big leather chair and then slowly tore the envelope open.

The letter heading of Pettifer, Harris & Steward appeared before his eyes, he pursed his lips, smoothed out the creases on the page and settled down to read the missive while Hester appeared with the coffee pot, his cup and saucer and set everything down near his elbow. He began to read….

Dear Mr Cartwright

With regards to your cablegram you should by now have received an response from our offices in connection with a Mr Silas Barrington.

As the information you requested was of a personal nature it was felt more courteous on our part to contact Mr Barrington personally with regards to your request and proceed from there according to his instructions.

Please find enclosed a letter which we have been requested to forward to yourself

Yours sincerely

Hal Steward”

Ben grimaced and shrugged, tossed the first letter back onto the desk and proceeded to open the envelope of the second. His name was written in a heavy black ink and bold handwriting upon expensive vellum and the first thought that struck him was that whoever had written this second missive was very self confident, even perhaps, arrogant.

He poured himself some coffee and then sat back to read it as he drank, with the cup in one hand and the letter in the other.

“Dear Sir

I should address it, I know, as Dear Mr Cartwright knowing as I do that this is to go to the man who has built an empire known as the Ponderosa, but lacking a personal intimacy with yourself, perhaps it is best to leave it as it is … 

I understand that you request information about myself and my family, so my first response is to wonder why? Who in this world would want to know about us, now, at this juncture of our lives? I could only speculate, of course, and upon enquiry recalled that my half sister, Martha Barrington, lived in Virginia City with her husband for some years. Of course I have long lost contact with them but could find no other reason to suspect anyone other than her to be so inquisitive.

That would mean, perhaps, that you, being in the vicinity of Virginia City, could be acting on her behalf. I can see no other purpose for the famous Ben Cartwright showing any interest.

I should of course end this now, and request that you do not proceed with your enquiries, but I am prone to vagaries, and curiosity prompts me to wonder and want to know more about yourself, your Ponderosa, your interest in us.

I and my sister live in Sacremento, not so very far from yourself, you see. Our address is given below. Should you wish to indulge your curiosity further then please feel welcome to visit us at any time that is convenient to yourself. Being retired from business I have long days to fill with idle gossip and matters that arouse my interest.

Yours truly

S. H. Barrington”

Ben raised his eyes from the letter to find himself being observed by his daughter in law who, upon realising he had noticed her, smiled sweetly and as innocently as she could “Was it interesting? Your letter - was it interesting?”

“In parts.” he replied and put both the letter and the cup down. He refilled his cup and looked over the rim at her, smiled slowly and leaned back more comfortably into his chair “They live in Sacremento.”

“Who do?” Hester replied with her hands folded neatly into her skirts as she surveyed him with a little more interest.

“Silas Barrington… and his sister.”

“Oh, Martha never mentioned he had a sister.”

“No, perhaps she didn’t know.” 

“Are you going to let her know now? After all it means she has a half sister as well as a half brother.”

“What do you suggest? Would you like to know if you were Martha?” he smiled, his dark eyes twinkled with mischief as he sipped the coffee and watched her from under his dark brows

“I think I would, yes, indeed I would.” Hester nodded and sighed “So what do you intend to do now, Pa? Will you go to Sacremento?”

Ben frowned, he picked up the letter again and read it through, felt instinctively that he would not like the writer of it, that bold black handwriting spoke too loudly of someone he could well find the very opposite of himself. He looked at Hester, noticed the little crescent of concern that furrowed her brow and smiled “I don’t know, dear, I’ll have to think about it a while.”

“Don’t forget that Hoss and Joe will be leaving for the cattle trail next week.”

“I won’t forget.” his smile faded a little and he emptied the cup and set it down on the saucer, then neatly folded the letters and returned them to their envelopes, both of them he put into his drawer.

He sighed and for a moment sat in deep contemplation which was broken by the door opening and heavy footsteps heralding the approach of his sons, he looked up and watched as Joe and Hoss came around to join him in the study area. Neither of them looked particularly happy as Hoss folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the book shelves while Joe perched himself on the corner of the desk

“Well, Pa?” Joe said and rubbed his chin, “Got your letter?”

“I did.”

“What’s it say? Anything interesting? Anything that means you’ll be leaving to go to New Jersey?” Hoss asked, his brows lowered and blue eyes looked earnestly at his father.

“Now why would it matter so much to you both if it did mean my going to New Jersey?”

“Because we got a ranch to run, Pa.” Joe protested.

“Yeah, and a cattle trail to organise.” Hoss spluttered indignantly

“Oh of course, and there’s that timber contract you got yourself tied up with Hoss Cartwright!” Ben snapped and pointing his finger at his son “How many times have I told you not to get involved with Hal Johnstone,, Hoss? Tell me, how many times?”

“Hal Johnstone?” Hoss gulped and stood upright, his arms flapped about a bit and he looked anxiously for help at Joe who only looked at him in amazement and echoed his word “Hal Johnstone?” 

“Well, I‘m waiting for an answer, Hoss?” Ben growled louder and thumped his clenched fist upon the desk, making everything rattle as a result.

“Hey, Pa, calm down some.” Hoss cried, “It’s only a little contract.”

“I don’t care how little it is, Hoss, I don’t want any dealings with that man or his family, do you hear? Now - I don’t know and I don’t care how you go about it - but you better go and tell him that the deals off, do you understand?”

“But, Pa, I can’t -”

“You can’t? Why can’t you?”

“Because - well - because -” Hoss again looked at Joe for help but his little brother only shook his head and looked bemused as though, like his father, he couldn’t believe Hoss could have made such a mistake.

“I don’t want excuses, Hoss. Nor reasons. I just want you to cancel that deal with that man, and do it now, today, do you hear me?”

“But, Pa, it’s supper time and - and , Pa, I’m sure hungry.” again he turned to Joe, “Ain’t you hungry, Joe?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Joe said immediately and moved away “Fact is I’ve got to get home, I promised Mary Ann I’d be back home early.”

“But - Joe -”

“Sorry, brother, but you’re on your own here.” Joe cried, “See you tomorrow, Pa.”

Ben narrowed his eyes and watched as his youngest son disappeared and within minutes the sound of the door closing was to be heard. Hoss sighed, gulped, and looked at his father “Can’t I go tomorrow, Pa?”

Ben sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, he wasn’t really so angry with Hoss now, but it had been useful to prevent any further questions about the letters and the Barringtons. He looked at his son and as usual found the sight of a very contrite Hoss Cartwright somewhat endearing, he sighed heavily as though it was hard to have to concede but “Very well. First thing in the morning, Hoss, I want this matter cleared up, do you understand.”

“Sure, Pa.” Hoss swallowed a lump in his throat, “Yeah, sure, Pa, I’ll do it first thing.”

Ben watched as Hoss hurried out of sight to be consoled by his wife. The sound of the table being set out for the meal, Hannah and Hope’s laughter and chatter, drifted towards him. He rubbed his chin and stared down at the closed drawer where in the two letters nestled safely, and shook his head doubtfully. Perhaps he’d send a cable to Martha and upon her reply make up his mind as to whether to take a journey to Sacremento or not.

 

Chapter 30

Roy Coffee sat at the table in the kitchen of his home and slowly drank his morning coffee. He watched as his sister sat down opposite him and poured out tea into her own particular cup. Together they ate in silence having reached that stage in their lives like many a married couple where it seemed there was just nothing left to say to each other. The minutes consumed the time and niether spoke, the only sound was that of munching and swallowing.

Finally the morning ordeal was over, Roy stood up and cleared his throat, wiped a hand over his moustache to dislodge any breakfast remains and nodded “Well, I’ll see you later.”

Rachel nodded in return “Don’t be late for supper.”

Roy raised his eyebrows but said nothing to that although he did wonder if his sister really would be bothered if he returned late or not for supper, to endure yet another evening ritual of silence. As he buckled on his gun belt he thought it odd that when two people sat together and said nothing the silence seemed so much more profound than when a man just sat down on his own to enjoy a meal. He rammed down his hat and scratched the back of his neck before opening the door and stepping out into the main street of town.

The sun was bright and for a moment he stood there in the porch way of his home blinking as it struck against his spectacles and made him blink. After a pause of a moment or two he began his usual habit of patrolling the town. He had done this walk every morning after breakfast ever since he first moved into town and had a roof over his head and a tin star fixed to his shirt. He knew every alleyway and every passage in town and who lived where and the circumstances of their lives. A good lawman, Roy had decided long ago, was like a shepherd with his flock. He’d know each one by name and check them over regularly. By walking these streets in the morning he met up with folk who would stop and talk, as a result he knew their goings on and their problems. It helped if anyone got involved in any shooting or lawbreaking because he had some back ground knowledge of the people he was dealing with, whether or not they would be the kind of folk would commit a crime. 

He finally reached the sheriff’s office over an hour later having stopped by and spoken to a number of people all of whom seemed more than pleased to stop and talk. As he stepped into the office and glanced around at the men there he smiled, just a small private smile to himself, although Candy had noticed and gave him the benefit of a smile in return. “Good morning, Roy. Time for a coffee?”

“Wouldn’t say no -” Roy replied and removed his hat, sat down and balanced it upon his knee. “Any news about that Cochrane feller?”

“None so far, Roy.” Candy replied and passed over a mug of the hot brew “I did get to know a bit more about the case though.”

“Oh. Interesting reading was it?” Roy’s moustache bristled and he frowned over the rim of his mug.

“Well, he certainly seemed quite a character.” Candy opened a drawer and pulled out a wanted poster and several pages of paper upon which some notes were scribbled. “A charmer, good looking with a way around the women.”

“Ah-ha, that’s how it would all start.” Roy nodded and his eyes narrowed, “He’d get them eating out of his hand.”

“Then he’d sweet talk them into getting engaged to marry.”

“Wouldn’t take him long to get round to doing that either.” Roy grumbled.

“Then he’d start complaining about debts he’d run up, money needed to start up home…and they would pay him until they had no money left themselves upon which he would kill them.” Candy frowned “I could never understand why he did that, if they had no money left then why not just leave them in peace, and get on with life elsewhere?”

“It was his way of doing things I suppose. Most criminals have their own way of doing things, you’ll learn that as you go along, Candy. Adam Cartwright would call it their modus operandii or something like that… if he left them alone with no more money then they’d go and get to thinking that they should sue him for their money back and all that kind of thing. He preferred a clean slate so he could start again. Of course -” Roy stroked his moustache thoughtfully, “they died in ways that would bring about a whole lot of sympathy for him from the other females, so he always had a good selection to pick out his next victim.”

“Six women killed.”

“S’right, and one that got away. She was the one that had the sense to come and tell me about it. Didn’t take long to get him to crack, had him arrested, tried and sentenced within six weeks.”

“Took that long, huh?” Candy grinned but Roy didn’t notice that he was being teased, he just finished his coffee and stared at the far off wall as though seeing Cochrane all over again.

“He was an arrogant cruel man. You would never think it when you first met him, he had us all thinking well of him. But -” he shook his head and sighed “now if’n he’d gone a-courting Widow Hawkins at the start of his campaign, I doubt if hed be alive to tell the tale.”

Candy laughed and nodded, he was fond of Roy and understood the need of the old man to keep calling in most mornings. He showed Roy the current poster of the wanted man and assured him that he would be keeping his eye out for him. “That’s good, then there’s nothing for us to worry about then,” Roy said and looked thoughtfully at the picture “Yep, that’s him alright. I wonder if he’s changed at all.”

“I did say it was the current picture of him, Roy. Do you think he’s changed at all?”

“No, he hasn’t…that’s why I wondered if it was the latest picture, ain’t no change in him at all. Prison changes a man, and nigh on ten years must have brought some changes I’d have thought.” he frowned and pushed the poster back to Candy “ Still, perhaps he charmed the jail keepers as well.”
……………

Ben Cartwright glanced over the cable and then folded it neatly and slipped it into his pocket. Glancing up and down the main street he noticed Roy Coffee leaving the sheriff’s office and smiled to himself as he wondered how Candy was taking to the old man haunting the place. He hoped that Candy accepted it gracefully and made the old sheriff feel comfortable and ’at home’. He raised a hand as Roy noticed him and began to cross the road, side stepping around Hogan’s wagon and avoiding getting run down by Carmichael’s barouche. “Morning, Ben. You’re early, ain’t they feeding you so good back there anymore?”

“Sure they are, you old galoot. When are you coming over to have a meal yourself? You promised me that you’d be a regular visitor when you retired and I’ve not seen hide nor hair of you yet.”

“Hmm, true enough.” Roy rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I keep intending to but time seems to have a habit of just slipping by. Everything alright over there?”

“Fine, just fine Roy. The boys are getting ready for the big spring cattle drive next week.”

“You’re not going, are you?”

“Nope, not this time.” Ben clamped his mouth together and forced a smile, then looked at his old friend thoughtfully, “Er, Roy, when was the last time you went to Sacremento?”

Roy scratched his chin thoughtfully and shook his head “Can’t say as I can recall, Ben.”

“Ah, well, in that case how would you like to come with me on a trip to the city? Huh? I’ve business to attend to there and would appreciate a companion.”

Roy shot his friend an uneasy look, then raised his eyebrow, “Well, it’s something to think about that’s for sure. When do you intend to go?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Roy shook his head “This business of yours must be pretty urgent.”

“Well, not really that urgent, Roy. Just something I want to look into myself, you understand.”

“I see.” Roys tone of voice indicated that he was far from actually seeing anything, but he gave Ben a thoughtful look and nodded, “Very well, Ben. I’ll come along with you for the ride.”

“I’m glad,” Ben grinned and clapped the other man on the back, “Be at the stage by 11 o’clock.”

Roy tipped his hat and walked away, his mind considering exactly what was currently happening at the Ponderosa that could have precipitated this sudden departure.

Ben mounted his horse and walked it carefully through the traffic in town, he had not got far when he heard the crash and smashing of glass, a shout of fury and out of curiosity turned to see what had happened. He was in time to see two boys running as fast as they could down the sidewalk with Andy Downing thundering after them shouting and waving his fist as he went, which wasn’t far as he was much overweight and had to stop to catch his breath.

Ben was wondering what to do in the situation when Downing caught sight of him and breathing heavily lumbered over to him “Did you see that? Did you see what that grandson of yours did ?”

“Reuben? No. I didn’t see him do anything?”

“Are you blind? You turned round to watch, I saw you, I saw you turn and watch that brat of yours send a stone through my window. Do you know how much a plate glass window costs nowadays?”

“Mr Downing, I don’t want to argue with you, but I don’t think it was Reuben who smashed your window.” Ben said coldly as he surveyed the sweating panting fat man from his seat in the saddle.

“Well, let me just assure you, Mr High and Mighty Cartwright, it was Reuben Cartwright and his pal Jamie Watts. The pair of them have been ganging up on my boy for the past few weeks and I demand that you give him the thrashing he deserves.”

Ben frowned and looked at the storekeeper with something close to loathing, but he checked himself, after all he hadn’t recognised the boys who had been running away, who was he to say it wasn’t Reuben. He cleared his throat, “If Reuben has been the cause of this, Mr Downing, rest assured, he’ll get the proper punishment for it.”

“And the cost of the window?”

“If he’s caused its breakage, I’ll cover the cost of the window.” Ben sighed and turned his horse away to resume his journey home. Just like old times, he pondered with a slight frown but also a slight smile puckering his lips. If it was Reuben, he wondered if a certain sling shot had been used, a familiar and oft used one at that…
……………

The knock on the door came just as Rachel had put the last hat pin into her new bonnet. With a slight turn of the head to check that her appearance was acceptable to any visitor who called she walked quickly to the door and opened it with a smile. The smile faded though upon finding a stranger on the doorstep.

The man removed his hat politely “Mrs Coffee?”

“No, there’s no Mrs Coffee here.”

“I’m sorry. I was given the understanding that Sheriff Coffee lived here.” the man standing in front of her gave a charming smile, his eyes were attentive and apologetic.

“My brother lives here, Roy Coffee. He is no longer sheriff here, however. I’m his sister, Rachel Darrow”

“Ah!” the gentleman’s eyebrows rose and he smiled, gave a slight bow “To be honest with you, I’m quite delighted to know that I’m not addressing Mrs Coffee.” and he gave her a look that made her blush “I’m Alfred Stone. I’ve just arrived in town and had been told to look up the sheriff, but, as Roy Coffee is no longer the sheriff, I had better make my way to the correct official.”

Rachel smiled and nodded, paused with her hand on the door handle, “Well, I can take you there, if you wish?” she suggested, pulling the door shut, “We have a new sheriff in town now, a very able young man….”

“Really? Well, that’s most kind of you, Mrs Darrow. So long as your husband won’t mind.”

Rachel simpered a little, glanced over to where she could see Widow Hawkins and Mrs Garston watching and whispering together, “Oh, I have no husband.” she said with a flutter of the eyelashes, “My husband died some years ago.”

“My dear madam…” Mr Stone said, removing his hat again, “My sincere condolences.”

Rachel smiled and lowered her eyes demurely, and then with a slight smirk to her lips she led the way down the main street leaving the two women watching, and whispering and speculating.

 

 

Chapter 31

Reuben squared up well to Ben’s cross examination later that evening. Standing with his hands behind his back and his head bowed he listened as his grandfather explained why he had come to ‘discuss something’ with him, and then with a sigh he explained in turn why he had acted as he had done so.

“I didn’t mean for the window to break, gran’pa.”

“I don’t suppose that you did, so what did you intend?” Ben stood leaning against the settee with his arms folded across his chest and his black brows beetling over black eyes.

Reuben swallowed a large gulp and looked anxiously to where Olivia was sitting in the chair by the hearth, at her slight nod of encouragement he heaved a sigh “Gran’pa, is it right for someone to tell lies about someone else and get people to say nasty things about them?”

“No, it isn’t.” Ben answered with a slight pout to the mouth, “Why? Is that what happened to you at school today?”

“Not just today, but other days too….and is it right for a fella to take another fella’s books and hide ‘em so that this other fella is late for class and gets into trouble with the teacher, only he can’t explain why because then the other fella’s in the class would call him a sneak.”

“No, that’s not right either.” Ben frowned and raised his eyebrows as though realising this problem was not as straightforward as it had first seemed.

“And anyhow, gran’pa, is it right that this fella who is big and older than the other one, gets to wait for him before school and after school and tried to beat him up every time?”

“No, son, that’s very wrong.” Ben replied with a sigh.

“Well, me and Jamie Watts decided enough was enough. We planned to show that Leslie Downing a thing or two, that he can’t do those kind of things and get away with it. David Watson said he’d help but he wasn’t at school today as he had to help his pa at home. So it was just me and Jamie. But That Downing Kid was with a group of his friends so we had to wait til he was on his own, y’see, and he was almost at the store by then.”

“So you let fire anyway?”

“Yes, sir. We didn’t want to go away without doing something, its just that one of the stones hit the window… I don’t know if it was mine or Jamies, gran’pa.”

Ben rubbed his brow thoughtfully and sighed, he looked at Olivia and then back at the boy who was looking pale but proud in front of him.

“Do you really think that was the best way to handle the matter, Reuben?”

“I thought so at the time, sir.” Reuben blinked, it seemed to him that there was no other way, none that would have worked on Leslie Downing that was for sure.

“And did David Watson approve of this plan?”

“No, we didn’t tell him. He had a plan of his own but -” he shrugged, “Pa always says we have to stand up and take the fight to the enemy. Well, That Downing Kid is the enemy, and we took the fight to him ‘cept it didn’t turn out right like we thought it would.”

“Fights don’t always go the way we want them to, Reuben. You can lose as many as you win, unfortunately. What do you think your Pa would do now if he were at home?”

“Talk some, I guess.”

“Alright, what do you think he’d say?”

“Same as you I guess.” Reuben looked down at the floor and blinked back tears, “I didn’t break the glass on purpose.”

“Do you think your Pa would have wanted you to take your sling shot to school and use it against Leslie Downing?”

Reuben didn’t answer for a while, but recalled a time when Adam had told him never to fire a stone from the slingshot at anyone, especially if angry with them. He remembered the story Adam had told him of seeing a boy do just that, and as a result a child had died. He shook his head “No, sir.” 

His voice quavered slightly and a tear trickled down his cheek, “But Leslie Downing …”

“I know, you told me all about Leslie Downing and what he’s been doing.” Ben drew the boy closer to him, much the same way as Adam would have done, and Reuben sighed and longed to just hug his grandpa close and stay safely there for a while, “What lies has Leslie been saying about you?”

“He said I wasn’t Pa’s son, that Nathaniel was and that if Pa died then Nathaniel would be his heir.” he frowned and looked quizzically at Ben, “I don’t know what that meant but it sounded something bad.”

Ben forced himself not to smile but instead cleared his throat and nodded, “Well, that wasn’t a lie, Reuben. You know that you aren’t Adams son in the same way that Nathaniel is, don’t you? Your father was Robert Phillips, wasn’t he?”

“I know, I did say that to them …but they made it all sound bad.”

“Look, Reuben, in life we have to face up to a lot of things said and done against us. Some things we have to let lie, ain’t no point in making a fuss, we have to grow big enough to take it on the chin and walk away from it. You’ll learn as you grow older, you’ll have to after all you are a Cartwright now.”

“But what did he mean about me not being Pa’s heir? Is that bad? Did I do something bad, gran’pa?”

“No, of course not. And it isn’t something you need to worry about at all, when you’re old enough your father will explain everything. I can assure you though, that you won’t receive anymore less than your brother or sister.”

Reuben’s brow furrowed and he looked over at Olivia who smiled at him reassuringly, which caused him to feel slightly more confident. Ben pushed himself upright and put a hand on his shoulder “Now, Reuben, I think you and I have to take a little walk, don’t we? I’m proud of you for telling me the truth of why all this happened but there are always consequences to our actions, so let me explain first what some of those consequences could be ….or could have been…firstly when that glass shattered it could have caused a lot of harm to anyone who was walking past the store at the time, or who may have been near the window inside. Do you understand what I mean?”

“But, granpa, I was aiming at Leslie, not the window.” Reuben expostulated with large tear filled eyes.

“Evenso you missed - and the window broke. The other consequence is that I have to pay for the damage - I doubt if you have enough money saved to pay for it.”

“I will give you my pocket money, gran’pa.”

“Alright, well, let that be for the moment. Now let’s consider something else… your Pa told you not to use that slingshot, didn’t he?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So you disobeyed him, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ben sighed, he looked over at Olivia who hurriedly became very busy with some sewing so that their eyes didn’t meet for she hated the thought that her little boy was going to receive punishment from Ben, even though she understood the reason why …the needle wove in and out of the hem until she heard the door close, and then her hands became still and she lay them down in the lap of her skirts and waited for their return.
…………

Mr Downing was puffing on his pipe when the bell tinkled over the door of the store and Ben walked in with young Reuben Cartwright beside him. He took the pipe out of his mouth and held it in one hand while he glared at the two of them, and then snapped out “Well? Come to pay your dues?”

“We have -” Ben said quietly and pushed Reuben forward slightly, “Reuben, say what you have to say, son.”

“Mr Downing, I’m real sorry I smashed your window, it was an accident, I didn’t mean it.”

Downing scowled deeper and thrust his pipe in between his teeth “Whether you meant it or not aint of no interest to me. Fact is the window got broke and it had to be fixed quick. Cost me extra as a result.”

Ben cleared his throat “I’ve the money to pay for the damage.” he said and pulled his wallet from his pocket, slowly thumbed out the notes which he put down on the counter, “Tell me when there’s enough to cover the cost, Downing.”

Andy Downing licked his fat lips, his nimble brain did a quick sum as he wondered how much extra he could add to the bill, but then he recalled that Ben Cartwright knew everyone in town, and the glazier was sure to tell him exactly what the amount was…he sighed and raised a hand “That’s fine, just fine.”

“Good. We’re both sorry for the inconvenience you’ve been caused.”

“Huh, well, no one was hurt,” Downing grumbled as he gathered up the cash and stuffed it into his pocket. “That’s the main thing.”

“There’s just another thing, Downing.” Ben stepped forward, looked at Reuben and indicated that he could now leave the building. As the bell tinkled upon the door closing he turned to the fat man, “You tell your boy to stop bullying my grandson, d’you hear? This wouldn’t have happened if the boy hadn’t been getting tormented by Leslie. If I hear that your son says, or does, anything to distress Reuben again …”

“You touch my son, Cartwright, and it’d be the last thing you’d ever do.” Downing growled.

“I wouldn’t touch your son, Downing, I wouldn’t need to, there’s more than one way to stop a forest fire you know.”

He left the building then, not quite satisfied with how the discussion had gone, he felt that there was still unfinished business hanging over them but at the same time knew that there was nothing more he could do. He looked up at the boy standing by the horse and pony and smiled, “Alright, Reuben, let’s get you to school.”

“Is it going to be alright now, Gran’pa?”

“Yes, son, it’ll be alright.”

“Are you still going away today?” 

They had mounted up now and were walking the horses in the direction of the school. Ben frowned, and for the first time realised that this journey to Sacremento really was an indulgence on his part, perhaps, even, a selfish one. He looked over at Reuben, “I won’t be long, only a few days. I may even be back before Joe and Hoss are gone.”

“I sure wish you weren’t going, gran’pa.” Reuben sighed, “I miss Pa and now you’re going, and then Uncle Joe and Uncle Hoss. Shucks, gran’pa, I’ll be the only man left in the place.”

…………..

Roy Coffee was standing and reading the poster pinned on the wall of the depot building. At the sound of his friend approaching him he turned and nodded “Thought you’d changed your mind, Ben.”

Ben tossed his bag up to the stagecoach driver who caught it deftly and fixed it in among the rest of the luggage, “Just something came up, Roy, sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Roy smiled and stood back for Ben to precede him into the vehicle, then followed and took his seat. “Glad to be going away, to be honest with you, Ben.” he stroked his moustache and frowned slightly, “Ain’t sure what’s going on with that sister of mine but she’s going around looking like the cat that got the cream… I don’t trust her when she’s going around like that.”

“Perhaps you’d be better staying in town then, Roy.”

“Nah, I don’t think I could stand it, her simpering and prissy-ing all over the place like she is…” he paused and grew silent as an elderly man boarded and sat beside him, followed by another who sat by Ben.

Each man settled into their positions on the well worn seats of the stagecoach and waited for the jolt as the horses took the weight of the vehicle and headed out of town. Ben watched as the buildings slipped by shrouded in a cloud of dust kicked up by the heels of the horses. He saw Downing standing at the door, his fat arms crossed over his chest and the bulge of his belly overhanging his pants, by his side stood the boy, Leslie, eating some candy and looking like a mirror image of his Pa. It crossed his mind then that the Downing family were not the best people to cross and he felt a slight unease of mind as the stage hurtled into open territory.

 

Chapter 32

The water fall was vast, the noise of thousands of gallons of water crashing downwards into the river hundreds of feet below them made their ears ring, it was impossible to be heard above the mighty roar of the cascade before them. 

The three men stood at the edge of the precipice and watched for some moments as the sun created rainbows as the water made its descent, spray scattered everywhere, creating prisms that formed wondrous rainbows. 

The earth shook beneath their feet as though amid the beauty lay also a most latent terror, and each man stepped back away from being too near in case by some misfortune they should misplace a foot and plunge headlong to their death.

But the air was cooling, refreshing after so many days enclosed in the humidity of the jungle. Their clothes were soaked for another reason other than perspiration and sweat. It made the hairs on their arms stand on end and sent shivers down their backs so that in a spontaneous movement the three of them turned and retreated back to the forest. They didn’t speak. The noise prevented speech for a while, but so also did the splendour, the beauty and majesty of what they had seen rendered them mute as they straightened their backs and resumed their trek.

As the sounds of the waterfall gradually receded so the need to talk returned and Yates was the first to break silence by commenting on how unexpected it had been to see so much water. “I suppose all that rainfall they have has to go somewhere.” he concluded as neither of the men seemed inclined to respond.

“I suppose.” Jotham nodded and hitched his pack higher, he looked at Qu’an who had stood in silence and waited for them to return before continuing the journey as though there had been no interruption. He wondered if the Indian had a sense of beauty, or had seen it so often that it no longer affected him in any way.

Adam kept his mind only on where they were going, he had an idea that they were nearing journeys end, that somewhere soon the men who had killed Mrs Mendes would have to show themselves, and that the three missing men would be discovered. In what order, however, he couldn’t anticipate, and was therefore doubly wary as a result.

They had walked far enough from the waterfall for the sounds of it to have faded from their hearing when Qu’an turned, straightened his back and stood erect and as tall as it was possible to do. He then said something equivalent to ‘That’s as far as I go.’ and remained standing, his lance by his side and his eyes staring ahead in the dark vastness beyond them.

Adam didn’t argue, didn’t attempt to persuade him. Knowing that when an Indian says ‘no further‘, they meant it for various reasons, he merely nodded, and continued onwards. Jotham gaze Qu’an a dark look but followed Adam without question whereas Yates paused, dropped his bag onto the ground and called out “Hey, what’s going on? You’re not going on without him, are you?”

Adam didn’t respond, but walked on, pushing aside some large leaves, brushing away any ant or insect that fell upon him, but not pausing for a moment. He had decided long before that if Yates decided to stop anywhere then that was his decision entirely, and he, Adam, wasn’t going to interfere. Jotham merely glanced back, shook his head, and walked forward.

“I can’t believe it. Are you both mad?”

The words were swallowed up by the air and the humidity and the jungle. Overhead came the twittering of birds chiding the man for disturbing them, squawks and squeaks from other creatures echoed the birds protests. Yates looked at Qu’an who resembled a wooden statue, and with a theatrical groan he followed in the footsteps of Jotham and the Captain.

Every so often Adam would pause, look about him and examine the ground, the leaves of the trees, and then continue. As the sun began to set he indicated that they would make camp, and set down his pack in order to settle down. He had just lowered his kit upon the ground when he froze, his eyes looked up and met those of a man standing a mere few feet from him. He very slowly straightened up and looked from one man to another, and very quietly said to Jotham “Don’t move, don’t make any sudden movement.”

There were at least twenty men surrounding them now, some were totally naked, others wore loin clothes. Red paint covered their faces and throats down to their chests, and their hair was the colour of ochre, seemingly baked hard like a crust on their heads. After some moments had passed where no one moved one stout figure finally stepped forward several paces, his eyes moving from Adam to Jotham to Yates and back again. Behind him and around them the other men closed in, their weapons poised.

The leader spoke to them in sharp guttural sounds, paused as though waiting for a response, then repeated himself. Adam shook his head, raised his hands to his side and shrugged, shook his head again. There was a murmur among the natives, they looked at one another and then back at the white men. Some of them raised their weapons, narrow pipes in which Adam was quite sure were some hidden poisoned dart. He kept his eyes on the leader and smiled, shrugged again “I don’t speak your tongue.” he said slowly, and pointed to his mouth, shook his head, shrugged once more.

The leader snapped out a response of some kind and narrowed his eyes, took several more paces closer to them. He and Adam stared at one another and then he nodded, and signalled to them to follow him.

Yates didn’t know how he managed to get one foot before the other, as he struggled to keep up with the others. He felt sick with fear, his head was floating off his shoulders from fear and he was sweating profusely. He could hear the laughter and comments from the tribesmen who were in the rear, and knew for sure that they were making risqué comments about the white men. He fully anticipated that they were walking to their deaths.

The village into which they walked was much larger than the previous one they had come across. It also had a more permanent appearance as the buildings looked as though they had had the roofs re-patched here and there, and the tracks between buildings and the common area was worn down and dry of soil. 

All the buildings encircled what appeared to be a communal central area, with doors facing onto it. As the three men were led towards that compound a man stepped from one of the huts and stood in the entrance to observe them.

Yates caught his breath and whispered “Scolley.” and then more loudly he called out the man’s name “Mr. Scolley, it’s me, Mark Yates.”

The white man didn’t move but watched as the Indians led their captives forward, and then stopped. The leader approached the white man and after a short conversation between them signalled to his companions to go, while he himself remained by Scolley’s side and walked with him towards the three men. Scolley smiled and held out his hand
“Michael Scolley.” he said in a manner that was both courteous and rather out of place.
Adam was the first to shake his hand “Adam Cartwright.”, this was followed by Jotham who also only gave his name while Yates just grinned and said “You know me, Mr Scolley, Mark Yates, I work for the London News Agency.”

Scolley looked slightly bemused but said nothing, except to the Indian who nodded and left them alone, his confidence and trust in the white man indicated by the fact that he didn’t look back nor hesitate to fulfill Scolley’s request. Scolley now shrugged and with a sweeping gesture of the hand asked them to follow him back to his hut.

The people of the village went about their business as though nothing untoward had happened, yet as an isolated and primitive people it struck Adam as strange that they should act in such a way, unless, of course, they were accustomed to seeing white men there. He watched Scolley with some interest and wariness as they entered the gloom of the building and were invited to sit and be ‘comfortable.’

“Mr Scolley -” Adam began but the other man raised his eyebrows and said quietly “Professor Scolley to be more accurate. And yourself, Adam Cartwright, who exactly are you and who do you represent? You’re both American? Associates? Partners perhaps?”

Jotham glanced at Adam and decided to say nothing, Scolley waited a moment before going to a section of the hut to pour some refreshment which he brought to them, he smiled rather as though amused at what was taking place “I presume you are part of a search party sent to find us - newspaper men are you? Met up with Yates and listened to his gossip, and decided to see how much you could both make out of a good story, huh?”

They accepted the drinks which were cool and refreshing, Yates was about to speak but then stopped when Adam gave him a look that would have made Joe and Hoss clam up immediately. Scolley didn’t appear to notice but sat down and stretched out his legs, “Well?” 

“We’re part of a search party, yes, you’re right about that, we were informed that three famous scientists had been maybe killed in an ambush, or kidnapped or just plain lost in the jungle here.” Adam sipped more of the drink and frowned slightly as he looked over at the Englishman, “we found the bodies of some of the men who were your porters and guides.”

Scolley nodded thoughtfully and stroked his chin, “Yes, that was unfortunate. Some of those men had listened to rumours about gold and a lost city, they came along hoping we would lead them to a fortune.”

Yates paused in the act of drinking and stared round eyed at the other man, “You mean there isn’t any gold or diamonds or anything?”

Scolley raised his eyebrows and shrugged again, he looked at Adam “When the Guaicua appeared some of the men we were with - convinced that they were about to be attacked with poison darts or whatever - opened fire upon them. The Indians had to defend themselves.”

“They defended themselves pretty well,” Jotham remarked coldly, “The number of bodies we found certainly indicates that…”

“The Guaicura suffered their losses, it could have meant our lives as well. It had taken a long time to build up trust with them, that was nearly destroyed as a result of that attack.” Scolley almost spat out the words, it had obviously caused him considerable concern that there had been such an aggressive outcome, he scratched the back of his neck, appeared to struggle to calm down before he spoke again “I met these people over ten years ago. Howard Jefferson and I were on an expedition together, got lost, nearly died from fever but these people found us and cared for us. We learned their language, their customs and traditions. We built up their trust in us.”

He stopped speaking and glared at Yates and then at the two Americans, “Have you brought anyone with you? Apart from yourselves … who else is out there looking for us?”

Yates opened his mouth, closed it again and looked over at Adam “We were led to the waterfall by a Terena Indian, and from there we came on alone, following the track that you’d left for anyone with any sense to follow.”

Scolley frowned “I didn’t realise we had left a track.” he spoke almost to himself, and shook his head in dismay.

“You obviously care about these people, Professor Scolley, but I can assure you that you provided anyone with any idea of how to hunt a clear passage to where you are now.” Adam said quietly.

“I’m presuming you’re the - er - hunter of the three?”

“No, I’m not a hunter.” Adam said quietly but coldly, “I’m just doing my job.”

“Which is?”

“To find Jefferson and if he’s alive, to bring him back.”

Scolley laughed then, it was mirthless, and he shook his head as though Adams words amused him “Bring him back? Where exactly do you intend to bring him back to?”

Adam glanced at Jotham who cleared his throat “Professor, just confirm, for our own peace of minds, that Jefferson is alive and well?”

“Yes, of course, he’s alive and well. But I can’t say he’d be too happy to go back with you.”

There was a disturbance now at the tent entrance as several women came into the hut with food which they set down close by, they were young and looked coyly over at the three strangers sending messages that were so obviously sexual that Jotham had to look away and coughed as though to cover his embarrassment. Scolley grinned “You have to excuse them, they don’t live by the morals we do in our so called sophisticated society. Hospitality means more than just providing food and drink to their guests, you understand.”

“Blimey,” Yates breathed, “They’re just girls.”

Scolley shrugged “Well, it’s a compliment to me that they’ve offered their services to you, my guests….” he turned to the girls and said something in a sharp tone of voice which sent them scurrying from the hut, giggling and casting glances at the three men over their shoulders.

Adam looked from Scolley to the food provided, and then back to Scolley “And the Russian, Sokolovich, is he here as well?”

“Ah,” Scolley reached out and picked up some fruit, he looked at Adam and narrowed his eyes “Sokolovich - you’re interested in him as well are you?”

“Is there any reason why we shouldn’t be?” Jotham asked now, he waved a hand to brush aside several flies and mosquitoes. “You came here together after all.”

Scolley nodded “Yes, we did. We’ve worked together on various expeditions for years. He’s a good man, a good friend.” he looked at the fruit in his hand with some intensity and then sighed, “Look, eat your meal. You must be tired, I know how long a trek you’ve had and how tiring it can be. Rest up and when you’re feeling less weary we’ll talk some more.”

He stood up then and left the hut, leaving the three of them alone to eat. Adam scratched his neck and shook his head “There’s something he’s not telling us.”

“Yeah, and wanting time to work out a way to tell us.” Jotham muttered as he bit into some sweet juicy fruit.

“Or to spin us some story and send us on our way.” Adam added.

“Empty handed.” Yates hissed, “Empty handed that’s what it’ll be… all this and for nothing.”

To that Adam and Jotham didn’t even bother to reply.

 

Chapter 33

Adam found Scolley sitting on the far edge of the compound smoking a pipe and looking contemplatively over into the jungle that bordered the encampment. The man didn’t move as Adam approached and only withdrew his pipe as though with great reluctance when Adam was standing in front of him.

“Well?” he asked quietly, “Food not to your liking?”

Adam shrugged and narrowed his eyes “You knew we were on our way, didn’t you?”

“Why do you ask?”

Adam raised his eyebrows and gave his familiar pout as though the question was irrelevant and he didn’t really need to answer, he then sat down opposite the other man and with a smile held out a notebook “I believe this belongs to you.”

Scolley looked at it rather sceptically before a faint smile drifted over his face and he nodded “Yes, it does, thank you. Did Yates have it?” and when Adam nodded the older man laughed “He’s like a ferret.” he drew on his pipe for a moment as he turned some of the pages over and then looked up at Adam “Have you read any of it?”

“All the way through, several times over.”

“What did you think?”

“Well, there was no mention of gold, diamonds or lost cities so I got to wondering what would have brought Yates here, and what keeps you here.” he scratched his jaw slowly with his thumb while Scolley seemed to be considering the matter, when no answer seemed forthcoming Adam quietly said, “There’s a group of men on their way to find you, they killed the Mendes …”

“Mendes? The storekeeper and his wife?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“For information. Jefferson was ill if you recall, Mrs Mendes looked after him.”

Scolley nodded “Of course, I remember. These men, are they anything to do with you?”

“No. They’re remnants of the party you brought with you, the so - called survivors. They
Brought Yates as far as the store, tried to kill him as well. They don’t seem to believe that you’re here just to study a primitive tribe of people, or to collect plants to further medical progress. They believe the rumours of gold mines and diamonds and lost cities…” 

Scolley sighed and drew heavily on the stem of his pipe for a moment before looking at Adam more keenly “And what about you? Is that why you’re here, to find gold and diamonds?”

“No.” Adam shrugged and gave the slightest of smiles, “No. I’m here because the orders I had were to find Howard Jefferson and bring him back, and to make sure you and Sokolovich were safe.”

“Orders? From whom?”

“The American government.”

Scolley removed his pipe and once again narrowed his eyes to look at the American, he sighed “Sit down, Mr Cartwright .. I presume that is your real name?”

Adam sat down upon the remains of an old tree trunk, and smiled “That’s my name. Captain Adam Cartwright to be exact.”

“I see, and the other American, is he -”

“He belongs to another branch of the American navy.”

Scolley nodded his head slowly and stared down at the ground for a few moments before he looked very earnestly at Adam again “These people - we think they are descendents of the Phoenicians. I take it you know something about them?”

“Yes, most seamen know about them, they were a great maritime people, traders who travelled vast distances from their homeland of Phoenicia. What makes you think these Indians are descended from them?”

Scolley smiled, he again removed his pipe “They have their legends and their myths. Jefferson found artefacts that were old, made exactly to the pattern of utensils and designs that they had used since as long as they’ve existed … their tattoo’s are reminiscent of those designs found at the cities of Tyre and Sidon, where their ancestors must have sailed from thousands of years ago. Mr Cartwright - I mean - Captain Cartwright, for us this is really a great discovery and far more important than any lost city or gold mine.”

Adam sighed and slightly shook his head “Professor Scolley, we found a satchel containing Sokolovich’s collection of plants… I don’t think he gave it away easily or would have abandoned it so casually.” he looked directly now at the other man “I don’t think he’s here, is he?”

Scolley thought for a moment before saying anything, he emptied the bowl of his pipe and stuffed it into his shirt pocket before standing up “I’ll show you where he is.”

They didn’t have to go far from the compound, Scolley led the way through into the jungle and stopped at a newly dug out grave, then with a deep exhalation of breath he said very quietly “He was wounded in the ambush, we did everything we could to keep him alive but he died several days ago. You’re right, he would never have left his satchel behind, he was dedicated to his work, he was so sure that he would be able to save mankind from so many diseases but … well … it’ll never happen now.”

“Why not? There must be others as dedicated who will follow in his footsteps, surely?”

Scolley gave a snort of contempt and turned away from the grave to return to the village, with Adam following by his side. “Professor Scolley, what are you going to do about the men I mentioned to you earlier? They’re not interested in science, in you as a scientist… they fully believe that somewhere there’s a lost city, or a gold mine and that you know where it is. They aren’t going to stroll in here and just parley over it.”

Scolley continued to walk towards where he had been sitting earlier and folded his arms across his chest “They -” he indicated the Indians with a nod of the head “they know those men are out there, they’ve already set things into motion to give them a - what shall we say - give them a warm welcome? The Terena you had leading you is known to these people, and respected ..”

Adam gave a slightly crooked smile “Is he descended from your Phoenicians too?”

“Perhaps.” Scolley gave a grudging smile as though the thought amused him, “Maybe one day I’ll have a chance to study his people as well.” he paused for a moment and then frowned “Two Americans, an Englishman… I’m surprised there were no Russians in search of Sokolovich.”

“There was - is - but he didn’t come with us into the wilderness, he stayed back in the town.”

“What was his name?”

“Radamsky.” Adam replied, “Your Russian scientist’s brother in law.”

Scolley merely shrugged as though now that he knew he was no longer interested, he looked up at the sky and then rose to his feet “It’ll be dark soon. It’s best that we get inside and try and get some sleep.”

“What about Jefferson?”

“I’ll take you to Professor Jefferson tomorrow, Captain. Don’t worry, he’s still very much alive.”

……………….

The child woke up crying, her sobs so loud that they woke her mother who hurried from her bed into her daughters room “Mommy, mommy …” Sofia sobbed, “Mommy I had a bad dream.”

Warm arms encircled around Olivia and held her tight while a little body sobbed against her, “Hush now, hush… it’s alright, I’m here, it was just a dream.. You’re awake now.”

“I want daddy home, I don’t want him on that big boat anymore, can’t you tell him to come home?” Sofia sobbed and clung to Olivia more tightly.

“Did you dream about daddy?” 

“Ye- e- es, it was a horrible dream, he wasn’t coming home to us, he was on a big boat.”

Olivia sighed, held her daughter close and stroked her back, crooned soft words in an attempt to pacify her, “He will come home, Sofia, don’t worry now. It won’t be long before he comes home.”

“Promise?” trusting blue eyes filled with tears looked into Olivia’s face, trembling lips whispered the word.

“I promise. Now calm down now and get back into that warm bed. Here’s Clarabelle…” Olivia picked the doll from where she had fallen on the floor and pushed her into Sofia’s arms, “Give her a cuddle and try to get back to sleep. You’ll be alright, Sofia, it was just a dream and daddy will be home soon.”

“I want him home. I don’t like that boat…” Sofia hugged old Clarabelle and stuck her thumb in her mouth. “Mommy…”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

But there was no answer, Sofia was fast asleep. Olivia looked down at her daughter and gently drew the covers further up over her shoulders, put a night light in a safe place nearby and slowly left the room.

As she passed Reubens door she peeked into his room and gave a smile as the sound of his snores greeted her. On to her room and back into her own bed where she drew up the covers and lay down. She closed her eyes and wasn’t ashamed of the tears that trickled from them, she whispered her husbands name and clasped her hands together in prayer. By the bed was the little cot where the child slept, Nathaniel Erik Cartwright undisturbed and unknowing of the fears and anxieties that stole into the hearts of those who loved him.

 

Chapter 34

Despite Yates snoring throughout the night both Adam and Jotham slept well, waking at a reasonable hour and feeling refreshed for the first time in days. Michael Scolley was already preparing a meal for them and nodded an acknowledgement as they rolled from their makeshift beds.

“So, you’re both navy men then? I suppose I should be honoured having you to entertain in my humble abode.” he clamped his teeth more firmly on his pipe and turned his attention back to his cooking, “Sleep well?”

Both men nodded and mumbled something in the affirmative as they stretched out kinks in their backs. Yates began to make sounds indicative of his waking, and towards him the professor nodded “Do you trust him?”

Jotham gave a half smile and shrug but Adam just said quite matter of factly “No.”

Scolley raised his eyebrows and smiled “Somehow, Captain, I don’t think there are many people whom you do trust.”

“True enough.” Adam replied and picked up a cup of clean water that Scolley had poured out for him, he drank it gratefully and then looked over the rim to observe the scientist, “What about yourself?”

“I suppose I trust people until I find out why I shouldn’t. Here, sit down and eat something.” he indicated grass matting on the floor as their seating area “When we’ve eaten I’ll take you to Jefferson.”

Adam nodded and sat down, “What about the matter of those men who were -”

“Oh,” Scolley shrugged and shook his head “Don’t you worry about them, my friends are already taking care of them.”

Adam opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself as he glanced at Jotham, raised his eyebrows and ran a hand over the back of his neck. It seemed matters had been taken out of his hands.

…………….

The loud rapping on the door brought Hoss to his feet, wiping his mouth on a napkin he slowly made his way to the door and opened it. McManus, the foreman of the timber camp, stood on the porch and removed his hat, smiled and nodded as Hoss stepped back to admit him into the house “Hi, Mac, want some coffee? You eaten yet?”

“Sure wouldn’t mind some coffee, thanks, Hoss. I had breakfast in town. it’s getting warmer. Morning Mrs Cartwright.”

“Good morning, Mr McManus,” Hester gave him the benefit of a bright morning smile and stood up to pour him coffee, “Do sit down, Mr McManus.”

Always a biddable fellow McManus did sit down, and handed over a wad of letters which he said he had picked up for them at the mail office. He nodded and smiled over at the little girls who stared at him for a moment before continuing with their breakfast. Hoss grinned over at Hester and then got back down to the serious business of eating his own meal.

“I met Hal Johnstone in town, Hoss. He wanted me to pass on a message to you.”

Hoss faltered with his fork mid way to his mouth, some ham fell back onto his plate. He gave Mac a wary glance “Oh yeah, what was that then?”

“He wanted to know if we had started on his order yet.”

“Doggone it, what did you tell him?” 

“I said ‘What order is that, Mr Johnstone?’ and he went red in the face and said it was that danged order he gave you last week.”

“Oh, that order ..” Hoss sighed and filled his mouth with food.

“Yeah, I said to him I didn’t know about any order as I hadn’t seen you to speak to and he said he thought your prices were too high. Anyhows, I said for him to give me the estimate and he showed me, and by Jiminy, the prices you quoted him were a lot higher than you’d have quoted for anyone else. Anyhow, I said how those prices - if’n you’d writ them down - must have been accurate because no one knows his timber better than you.”

Hester glanced at her husband and widened her blue eyes, it was true, her husband knew everything there was to know about trees, timber and pricing, but it seemed strange to her that Mr Johnstone should have complained about it, and even stranger that McManus agreed with the man. Hoss swallowed his food calmly and sliced through some more ham with a slight flourish “So what did Johnstone say to that, Mac?”

“He said to cancel the order, he didn’t want anything to do with Ponderosa wood anyhow, said he’d get it done by Archers instead.” Mac emptied his cup and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, he pushed back his chair and got to his feet “Thank you, Mrs Cartwright, that was mighty fine coffee, fair cuts the dust from my throat.”

“I’m so pleased, thank you for coming, Mr McManus.” Hester smiled and thought how pleased Ben would be to know that Mr Johnstone had cancelled his order, and turned to attend to Hope who was struggling with spooning porridge into her mouth.

Hoss ambled across the room with McManus and shook his hand, for some reason both men winked at the other, and Hoss watched the timberman stroll across the yard to the wagon, gave him a wave of the hand and with a smile closed the door.

“Pa would sure be pleased to know that Mr Johnstone cancelled his order even before we had started work on it, wouldn’t he, sweetheart?”

He sat down and smiled at Hester, who smiled back and nodded “Yes, dear,” she said, “He’d be more than pleased, and very relieved.”

“Yeah, I thought so too….” Hoss grinned and heaved in a deep breath of contentment, there was, he knew from experience, more ways than one to skin a rabbit, or in this case, avoid getting stung by a miser.
……………..

Reuben leaned against the corral fence and stretched out his hand towards the horse and colt who walked slowly towards him and accepted his offering as though doing him a great favour. The boy sighed contentedly and stroked the mare’s broad nose and then that of the colt. Close by and braiding a lariat his uncle Joe watched with a look of contented pleasure on his face, when the boy glanced over his shoulder to flash a smile at him ,Joe nodded and smiled back.

“When can I ride her, Uncle Joe?” Reuben asked with that slight touch of excitement in his voice that he always got when around the horses. Perhaps he had forgotten that he now wanted to be a seaman, perhaps being with Kamille and the colt just put that thought clear out of his mind but when Joe straightened up and said “Well, why not now?” he gave a whoop and holler that sent the colt skittering away.

It didn’t take long for the saddle and bridle to be buckled onto the horse who stood patiently by, lowering her head every so often to nip at Reuben’s sleeve and give it a playful tug. He stroked her jaw, fondled her ears, whispered sweet words in her ear, and then smiled at Joe, “I think she really likes me, Uncle Joe.”

“I think she does too, Reuben. Right, up you go now.” he put a hand under Reuben’s foot and gave him the necessary boost so that the boy could get into the saddle, then he handed the reins over “Don’t go above a jog.”

“No, sir. I won’t.”

Joe leaned his arms upon the topmost rail and watched as the boy rode the horse around the corral. He was so intent on watching that he didn’t even notice when Mary Ann came out with Daniel in her arms and came to stand by his side, it wasn’t until she spoke that he realised she was there …”You were miles away, Joe.”

“I was,” he admitted and laughed, while at the same time he slipped his arm around her waist and tweaked Dan’s chin, “I was thinking that could be our boy one of these days, perhaps riding Kamille’s colt.”

“Adam was very generous in giving him to us, wasn’t he?”

“Well, what are big brothers for?” Joe laughed lightly and then sighed, “He must have done a big favour for that Sheik to have been provided such a beautiful creature, that’s for sure.”

Mary Ann nodded and leaned her head into his shoulder, “The colt’s growing every week, isn’t he? Look how strong those legs are?”

“Look at the length of them? Pa would have him down as a regular hay burner and no mistake.”

They laughed softly at that, and then leaned together against the rails with Daniel perched on the top, held tightly by his mother. The little boy clapped his hands with excitement at seeing Reuben riding the mare, and called out to him in his baby talk which made his mother laugh. Then she looked at her husband “I don’t think that colt is the only one who’s growing, your son seems to be getting bigger every day.”

Joe grinned, pride swelled his heart, tempered by love. He had never been so content with his lot in life as he was right then.
………

Marcy Dent paused in her work at the sound of approaching horses and waited for a moment before going to open the door. She knew that her husband was going to be absent for the day as he had gone into Carson City to discuss some financial business with the bank manager so hoped that perhaps whoever had arrived would be dear friends from the Ponderosa, or, perhaps Mrs Jessop, Derwent’s wife, with whom she had formed an attachment.

She was speculating on who her visitors could be as she opened the door and was more than pleased to see Olivia with Sofia, and in Olivia’s arms was baby Nathaniel. Olivia laughed at the sight of her friends big smile “I thought we would surprise you. It was such a lovely day and I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

“Come in, come in.” Marcy cried almost pulling at her friends sleeve to get her inside sooner “Oh Sofia, you’ve grown since you last came.”

“I got a new tooth too.” Sofia declared as she followed Marcy into the sitting room, “But another one fell out.”

“Let me see?” Marcy leaned down to look at the gap between the childs pearly white teeth and smiled “Well, it won’t be long before a new one will grow there as well. I suppose that means you wont be able to eat any cookies while you are here?”

“Oh -” Sofia’s face pictured her dismay and she looked appealingly over at Olivia who was settling the baby onto the settee, “Mommy, can I have a cookie?”

“If Marcy has any for little girls who have teeth falling out.” Olivia replied as she tucked the end of the shawl into a cushion to ensure Nathaniel’s safety.

“Come along then,” Marcy took the child’s hand and led her along to the kitchen area where she began to get out plates and platters, and soon the kettle was boiling and fresh coffee was brewed, sweet lemonade prepared and food arranged for their selection. 

“Where’s Reuben?” Marcy eventually asked as though the boys absence had only just been noticed.

“Oh, Reuben abandons us every chance he has to go to Joe and Mary Anns, since the mare and colt arrived he just loves to go and watch them. Joe said he would be able to ride the mare soon.”

Sofia opened her mouth then, she wanted to remind her mother that the colt was hers, but then she remembered that her father had told her that the colt would belong to Joe, so she promptly shut her mouth and sulked. Olivia ignored her daughters bad manners and listened as Marcy told her of Luke’s plans for the ranch and how well they were getting on with the Jessops.

“Who would ever have thought it, Olivia,” she laughed “The Jessops being so friendly with us all now.”

“It just needed a little compromise,” Olivia replied, “A pity no one thought of diverting the stream onto Jessop’s land earlier.”

“I know,” Marcy sighed and shook her head, she brushed some crumbs from her skirt, “But even if it had been I don’t think it would have stopped that Brett Jessop from causing trouble, he was just plain evil.” she leaned forward and put her hand on Olivia’s arm, “Have you ever heard any more from your sister, Katya?”

“No, nothing at all. I don’t even know if she ever reached England. Have you heard anything, or Luke?”

“No. Luke was hurt at first, he never said anything but I could tell that he hadn’t expected his sister to just go and never be in contact with him again. I have to admit that I’m more than relieved, she was - well - she was a strange one, wasn’t she?”

“Katya always had a wild streak in her,” Olivia admitted and looked anxiously at her friend, “What about your brother, Marcy, the one you call Jacko?”

“Oh, I had a letter from him a while back. He’s on board the Baltimore still, the one that Captain o’Brien used to be in charge of before he died. He wrote to tell me that they had a new Captain now.”

Chatter resumed and slipped into familiar territory of pleasant gossip, Sofia went out to play in the orchard but missed her brother’s company. Running through the trees was no fun without him with her so she returned listlessly to the house, where she found her mother feeding Nathaniel and Marcy doing some stitching. She approached her aunt and leaned against the chair “I’m learning to play the piano.”

“Are you indeed? That’s lovely, Sofia.” Marcy smiled and looked at Olivia “Are you teaching her?”

“Oh no, I need a teacher myself as I’m quite a novice. It’s Mary Ann that is teaching Sofia.” she looked down at the baby and stroked back soft downy hair, “Marcy, why don’t’ you come and visit a little more. We would all love to see you, you do know that, don’t you?”

“I’ll visit when I can, Miss Livvy, it’s just that I’m so busy here, there’s so much to do every day.” she frowned slightly, “But when I can manage to come I certainly shall do so.”

Having elicited that promise Olivia said no more on the subject but listened as Sofia prattled on about her piano and how she had to practise so hard. She was lost in thoughts of her own when Marcy asked her if she had heard from Adam and for a moment she felt a cold shiver run down her spine, a brief memory of Sofia’s nightmare from the previous night. She swallowed hard and shook her head “No, nothing for a while yet.”

“Do you know where he is?” Marcy asked looking anxiously at the worried features of her friend, and hoping that Olivia wasn’t going to faint with the baby in her arms.

“Brazil, somewhere in Brazil” Olivia stammered and looked down at Nathaniel who had stopped feeding but was looking intently up at her as though he understood exactly how she was feeling, and she kissed his brow with a fervour only a doting mother and wife could have understood.

 

Chapter 35

The concerns over the fact that a murderous group of men were heading towards the village with full intent to do them harm played greatly on Adams mind as he ate the frugal meal offered him. Occasionally he would look at his companions and wonder if any of them were having similar misgivings and when Scolley stood up and indicated that they should follow him, Adam voiced his concerns in leaving the villagers unprotected and unarmed. Scolley looked at him with some bemusement and shrugged “I assure you, sir, these people are well able to care for themselves. The Guaicura are the most warlike of the tribes in the Pantanol, you should be more concerned about the men you say are on their way here.”

Jotham cleared his throat and volunteered the information that the Professor hadn’t seen the harm those men had done to the people who had been travelling with them when they had been ’taken’ by the Indians. Scolley smiled again, and exhaled a cloud of smoke before re-inserting the pipe between his teeth “We weren’t taken,” he said, “We came here as arranged, but those idiot Brazilians had so convinced themselves that they’d be deprived of hidden treasures that they refused to let us go.”

Adam looked at the Englishman thoughtfully and sighed, “Well, a lot of people have gone to a lot of trouble trying to find you, Professor. Perhaps if you had informed the authorities what your plans were a lot of harm could have been avoided.”

Scolley had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, he looked thoughtfully at Adam and then at Jotham, “I appreciate what you are saying. I’m afraid expeditions of this kind always bring a certain amount of notoriety along with them, sometimes that’s how we can get sponsored. Governments aren’t always happy to shell out money just for information about people like the Guarani and Terena, or for plants that may or may not cure the nations.”

Yates looked interested in the conversation and tore his eyes away from looking at a group of rather nubile and pretty young women “You mean, there’s no hidden city, no gold?”

Scolley sighed and now scratched his head while he gave Yates a scornful glare “Our main aim was to keep the whereabouts of these people hidden. How long do you think they would survive if the world knew about them? It’s like walking a tight rope, trying to get backing from sponsors, trying to conceal most of what the expedition is really about, hoping that what we achieve will be beneficial for everyone concerned.” he shook his head now and walked to the door of the hut where Yates had been standing moments earlier “In answer to your earlier question, Captain, you really do not need to worry about these people at present. They can defend themselves against a small party of even very well armed men.”

“That’s what the Cheyenne and Sioux thought once upon a time,” Adam replied and was irritated by the look of indifference on the other mans features.

“I don’t know much about what happened in your world, sir,” Scolley said quietly, “I’m only concerned about these people and keeping them safe.”

Adam and Jotham exchanged a look that indicated that both men felt that Scolley was being unrealistic but they picked up their packs and shouldered them without a further word as Scolley strolled out towards the compound, being immediately joined by several of the men from the tribe. Behind them Mark Yates trudged along, his nimble mind already working on the write up he would give to this story, so far as he was concerned it was going to be the scoop of the year.
……………

Ben and Roy were both caught by surprise at the way Sacremento had grown since they had last visited. Roy admitted he had last been in the city in the year of ’64 when there had been trouble with a group of thugs who had almost killed him, and had practically got Ben and Adam hanged. As he said to Ben he hadn’t seen much of the city then really, having been despatched to the place while almost on his death bed.

Ben preferred not to dwell on the incident of Hawkins and his gang of murderers, saying that he always got a queer tightening in the throat whenever he was mentioned which made Roy laugh. They found a cab which took them to their hotel where they were booked into two rooms. It was while Ben was getting his belongings unpacked that Roy knocked on the door and strode into the room 

“Well, what do you intend to do now, Ben? See the sights or go visit that Barrington?”

Ben glanced at the clock on the wall and nodded “I’m going to see Barrington. At least let him know that I’m here anyway. What about yourself? Do you want to come along with me?”

“Lan’sakes why’d I want to do that fer?” Roy responded wrinkling his nose as he spoke, “No, sir, I thought I’d just take a wander around and see if I can find anything worth looking at hereabouts.”

“You’re welcome to come too, you know.” Ben said in the assumption that Roy was only being polite, but the old man shook his head and insisted that he’d rather not.

“I ain’t even got it figured out in my own mind yet as to how you got yourself involved in all this anyhow, Ben. Ain’t as if these Barringtons mean anything to you or your family.” Roy tugged at his moustache and strolled over to the window to look down on the sprawling city and to watch the comings and goings of the pedestrians, the hustle and bustle of traffic.

“Now don’t you start making me feel a fool, Roy. The family have been saying much the same thing for weeks now, ever since I found that wretched scrap of paper in that book.”

“Huh, well, you always were a romantic at heart. Your Adam’s just the same if’n you ask me otherwise he’d never have gone off to sea like he did.” Roy raised one eyebrow and observed his friend with a wry smile “I’ll meet you here later.”

“Sure, Roy. If I do happen to be delayed …”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll find something to amuse myself.”

Bens mouth parted in his usual wide grin, and he nodded “Well, that’s alright then, just don’t get into any trouble. I don’t know who the sheriff is around here but I doubt if he’ll be as lenient on you as Candy would be.”

Roy gave a dry laugh at that and with a nod of the head left Ben alone in the room to get cleaned up and changed out of his travelling gear. Not long afterwards Ben Cartwright left the hotel wearing his best suit and silk vest, looking the epitome of a prosperous business man.
…………

Silas Barrington stood up to greet his visitor in a slow movement, he was tall and slim and if Ben had not already been aware of the mans mixed parentage he would have assumed the darker skin was due to being well tanned and the crisp curling hair which he obviously took pains to have straightened, as well as the very dark brown eyes. He extended his hand “Mr Ben Cartwright, a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr Barrington, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” Ben replied and shook the offered hand with his usual firm grip, somewhat surprised at the rather limp one he received in return.

“Please, do sit down. I’ll have refreshments brought up immediately.” and he resumed his seat and leaned back as though he needed to do so in order to observe his guest more closely. “Was the journey comfortable?”

“As much as it could be.” Ben replied and paused as the sound of footsteps approached, the rattle of cups and an elderly servant entered the room carrying a tray of coffee and cups, behind him came a younger man with food set out delicately on plates. These were placed carefully upon a table.

Ben cleared his throat, and realised he didn’t feel comfortable here. The servants obviously knew their place so well as to not have to be given orders, they just provided refreshments because they knew that was what the master would want, and the whole house was grand, far grander than any other private place Ben had seen in a very long while. He looked up at the ceiling which had lavish decorations and paintings set among the mouldings there, and the paintings on the walls were so expensive that they seemed to scream at him that he was a mere peasant, a provincial. He was about to speak when there came the rustling of skirts, the light step of a woman and he immediately stood up to await her arrival. Silas Barrington remained seated, he had obviously stood up enough that day or perhaps felt that such courtesies did not extend to his sister.

“Mr Cartwright?” her voice was light and contained a warmth that had been lacking in her brother’s greeting, and the smile was genuine as it reached her eyes “What a pleasure to welcome you to our home.”

“The pleasure, Madam, is all mine I assure you.” Ben said, mentally noting that his own words, although an echo of those used formerly to Silas, contained more sincerity and warmth that they had previously.

She walked to the table and began to pour out the coffee, asking Ben how he would prefer his and then bringing the cup over for him. “My brother may have forgotten to tell you about me,” she smiled as though it really didn’t matter and was so commonplace as to not be worth mentioning, “I’m Paloma Barrington.”

“That’s a very pretty name.” Ben smiled and inwardly groaned at such a pathetic thing to say but her smile was appreciative as she carried the cup of coffee over to her brother.

“Thank you, I think so too. Our father was in Mexico at the time I was born and chose the name. Sugar?”

“No, thank you.”

“Then try one of these biscuits, they really are very good…” she held out the platter to him, but again Ben refused although with a smile.

Silas cleared his throat “Well, Mr Cartwright, pleasant though it is to have this visit, perhaps you could tell us why exactly you felt it so necessary to come? I find it interesting, indeed, that someone of your - er - prominence should just decide to look us out merely to titillate your curiosity.”

Ben’s smile drifted from his face, he looked at Silas thoughtfully for a moment and then sipped his coffee, which was very good, “Actually, that was exactly what it was … just curiosity. You see, I found a note in a book.” and in his deep growl of a voice he explained about the note, the strands of red hair and how intrigued he had been about it. That it had led to a visit to his friends the Frobishers who had owned the book, and how Martha had remembered it so well, and the circumstances as to why it had been placed there.

“You must lead a very quiet life, Mr Cartwright, if that was all that motivated you to seek us out.” Silas drawled and stretched out long legs, he looked at Paloma and then at Ben, “But then I have to confess that your letters intrigued me, so I suppose I am as guilty as yourself.”

Paloma laughed “Well, really, that is just too funny for words. But it makes a good story, doesn’t it?” she looked at Ben and her eyes slanted as she smiled, “I think, had I found such a note, with the hair, I would have been curious as well. But … now I am wondering why is it that our sister didn’t make the journey herself? Of all of us, I would have thought she would have been the most inquisitive.”

“Why so?” Silas scowled.

“Why, to see how well we have done, to see what good use you have made of her fortune of course.” 

Ben frowned slightly, he wondered just for a moment if her words had held a hint of sarcasm, her eyes a gleam of distaste but as she had turned her head away and towards Silas it was hard for him to read. Silas’ lips tightened and for a moment he seemed at a loss for words. It was Ben who answered “She has no interest in the matter, Ma’am. She and her husband are wealthy, and settled comfortably in San Francisco. I believe that her estrangement from her father makes her feel that there is no need to rake over what is now dead to her.”

Paloma looked at him thoughtfully and nodded “Very nicely put, Mr. Cartwright.”

“I can only tell you what she has said herself, and told me that she didn’t mind having it repeated. You have to understand that …” he paused, conscious that he may now be straying into too intimate a story so he dipped his head and drank more coffee.

“My father chose to consider me as his heir, rather than his daughter whom he felt was too giddy headed to make wise use of his money.” Silas murmured, “He gave me - and my sister - a good education and established my career. We both made good marriages -” he looked at his sister and his mouth tightened again, he said no more but shrugged his shoulders and set down his cup into its saucer, Paloma was immediately at his side to take it from him and carry it back to the table.

“How long will you be in Sacremento, Mr Cartwright?” Paloma asked as she poured her brother more coffee and carried it over to him, “Would you like another …?”

“I don’t intend to be in town for long,” Ben replied, “A few days only, I want to get back to the Ponderosa before my sons start on the cattle drive. And - yes, thank you, I would appreciate another cup of coffee.”

“The Ponderosa.” She sighed as she took his cup from him and her face took on a wistful expression “How romantic it sounds. I believe you have three sons?”

“Yes, that’s right.” he accepted the cup and looked up into her face, an attractive face, liquid brown eyes, high cheek bones, too much like her brother in resemblance.

“I had only one child, a daughter.” she sighed and resumed her seat, “She died in infancy. Smallpox.”

“I am truly sorry …” Ben commiserated and glanced over at Silas whom he noticed looked uncomfortable, his fingers held the cup so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t crack. 

“It was a long time ago, but it left it’s mark…” she said softly and turned away to look at the pictures on the wall.

“And your husband?”

“He died during the war, at the battle of Gettysburg.”

Ben nodded and glanced over at Silas who was staring at the unlit fire with an intensity that caused Ben to feel uncomfortable. He finished his coffee and stood up, “Well, thank you, it was very good of you both to see me. I - umm - enjoyed meeting you both.”

“Oh we barely had a chance to get to know you, Mr. Cartwight. Please stay and have lunch with us.”

“I really have to go, I have a friend who travelled into town with me… he’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.” 

Paloma looked at him in that way women have of letting a man know she had caught him in a lie, her lips parted into a smile “well, then, come this evening and have dinner, bring your friend with you.” she glanced over at Silas who had risen to his feet, “Please do come.” she repeated to Ben and extended her hand once again to bid him farewell.

Chapter 36

The Professor led the way, flanked by several of his native friends and with the three white men trudging along with them. Jotham was constantly wondering what had been the purpose of being sent on this assignment while Adam had long ago decided to forget the assignment and just learn what there was around him to notice and enjoy. Yates, an unwilling third to their party, grumbled and complained beneath his breath constantly.

They could hear the roar of the water fall in the distance, and even though some mile away the air was already cooler and the foliage less abundant. When Scolley came to an abrupt halt Yates almost fell over his own feet, bumping into Jotham who released a curse which Adam chose to ignore. Scolley turned and smiled, his face was lit up with some inner excitement and his eyes gleamed as he looked at them “Gentlemen, tell me what you see?” and he swept his hand in a sweeping gesture to encompass the land before them.

Through the undergrowth could be seen a pathway made from slabs, made to fit and provide safe passage to whatever lay among the undergrowth. Adam narrowed his eyes and nodded “Those slabs have been manufactured …”

“Certainly fashioned by hand, and laid out in an orderly fashion. The first clue to what lies ahead.” Scolley took a deep breath and looked at Adam “Do you realise what this meant to us when we first found it? Jefferson and I could hardly believe it, that here, right here among this mass of jungle, was this pathway.”

“Mmm,” Adam nodded, “So you followed it along and found Utopia?”

Scolley laughed “Are you mocking me, Captain?”

“Certainly not, but you spent a lot of time earlier trying to persuade us that there was no lost city, or gold mine or diamonds or anything else worth noticing for that matter… and then you lead us here. Why?”

Scolley nodded, the smile faded and he looked serious as he turned to face away from them and regard the path ahead, “I suppose it’s vanity. As much as I want to preserve this hidden treasure, and protect these people, I want some recognition for its discovery. I’m human after all.” he shrugged and then allowed a scowl to settle upon his face “There were some in my profession who thought my idea of the Phoenician descendents to be ridiculous. They almost ruined me financially, certainly tarnished my reputation, it was deucedly difficult to get funding for this last expedition as a result.” he cleared his throat as though emotion had got a stranglehold, “No one likes to be held up for ridicule, Captain.”

“Then Yates will be the man to help clear it.” Adam smiled slowly although his eyes showed a wariness that Scolley didn’t seem to notice.

“Yates?” Scolley raised his eyebrows and looked surprised, then glanced over at the hapless reporter who was trying to listen to what was being said “I don’t know, I’m not sure he’s got the gravitas to take it on.”

“Well, he had the ’gravitas’ to come all this way. He managed to persuade his editor to back him on your behalf.” Adam said quietly, inclining his head a little towards Scolley so that Yates could not overhear.

Scolley nodded and muttered he would keep Yates in mind. Then he looked again at the path “Well, come along, let me show you the way…” he paused, smiled vaguely, “Jefferson should be there. He’ll not be too pleased to have visitors so I must warn you he may be a little frosty.”

“I expect he will be, Professor.” 
Scolley led the way along the path, rutted and broken though the stones were, they still provided strong proof that sometime ago men had laid them down carefully and well. Adam noticed where wheels had once ridden over them creating well worn grooves. Despite the jungle reclaiming so much of it there was no doubt that this was a road that had led to some thing bigger than a primitive village of mud and straw huts.

“What do you see?” Scolley asked as he came to an abrupt stop and turned towards them with all t he pride of a man showing off his prize possession.

To Yates it was just piles of stones camouflaged by the jungle, and not a mine shaft in sight. Jotham was more circumspect, he narrowed his eyes and looked from left to right before looking at Scolley “A town?” he ventured “Buildings?”

Scolley smiled and looked at Adam with raised eyebrows “Well, Captain?”

“Well, it isn‘t the kind of town they talked about, the lost city of the Spanish and Portuguese conquerors. There’s nothing European about these buildings.”

“So? You can see it then?” Scolley‘s voice was almost high pitched with nervous excitement, “You can, can‘t you?”

“It wasn‘t what we were expecting.” Jotham said honestly, “We had reports of a lost city of the conquisadores - more or less.”

“With plundered treasure.” Yates commented with a dismal lisp to his voice. “I don’t know how I‘m going to write this up for the readers.”

“You don‘t have to, Mr Yates.” the Professor said quietly, “Come along, we’re go up a bit further. When you look down at it, you’ll be able to see what we saw that time over ten years ago. We were the first white men to look down and see it for - perhaps - for a thousand years or more.”

Jotham looked at Adam who merely quirked an eyebrow. Such claims were not so very preposterous, he thought, considering the age of the Pharoah’s tombs and pyramids that he had seen in Egypt. He followed behind Scolley, followed by Jotham and Yates. The Indians had stopped, waiting in a dignified silence further down on the paved roadway.

With the heat and the humidity the toil up the hillside was difficult, all four men were breathing heavily by the time they reached the summit and even Scolley had to pull out a handkerchief and mop around his face and neck. Yates was bent double, his hands on his knees and gasping for breath. Adam realised his leg was feeling weak, there was little pain but it did ache. Scolley managed to smile and then pointed down the way they had come “Look.” he said, “Look at that, and try, gentlemen, try if you can and imagine how we felt when we saw that?”

Despite years upon years of growth, the jungle still had not entirely concealed the remnants of the buildings that some men had long ago formed into a township. Whoever they had been, whether as Scolley speculated ancient Phoenicians or not, what remained showed thought and order in the way the buildings had been laid out. Not much remained of actual walls, but enough of the foundation stones were there. Adam rubbed his chin thoughtfully as his eye caught the shape of some worn down statue half listing as though about to fall and further to the left another shape, a half column that could perhaps have supported a roof of a grand building. 

He looked at Scolley and nodded “I’m impressed, Professor.”

Scolley couldn’t speak. His excitement at showing these three laymen his prize was almost too much, it had robbed him of speech. Yates, having recovered his breath, came to stand beside Adam and looked down at what was spread out before him. He turned in a complete circle getting the full panoramic view of his surroundings before he looked at Adam, then Scolley “Why’d they build here? The seas miles away.”

“We don’t think it was when this was built.” Scolley said, “But we’re learning more all the time.”

“Sokolovich, what was his role in all this?” Jotham demanded, “He was just a botonist, collecting plants, he wasn’t interested in old buildings, no matter who built them.”

“True enough.” Scolley sighed, “But he was interested in ancient remedies, he ventured to ask if we had found any evidence of the plants found here being used for medicine in the past. If we had been able to find any proof of that, it would save - perhaps - years of research into finding new drugs for what he found. He - he was a good man, sincere and honest.” Scolley sighed “Bless him.”

He said it in almost a whisper but it caused all three of the other men to pause a moment, to conjecture as to why the Russian had come, and to sympathise with the fact that he had died. Adam cleared his throat “A pity he had to die …”

“Yes, he was unwell anyway. I did wonder if he had dengue fever but he said it wasn’t, then when we were attacked -” he paused “I think it was then that we realised what a folly it had been to let people outside assume we were after gold and buried treasure and all that clap trap. We lost Sokolovich and some of the Indians as well as some of the men who came along with us… all unnecessary needless deaths.”

“Like the Mendes?” Jotham said quietly and Scolley nodded and said “Yes, like the Mendes.”

Chapter 37

David Watson stretched out his legs and tried to get comfortable at the desk in the school room. He was soon to leave, to graduate, and he was pleased at the fact that despite the hard work he had to do on the homestead, he had been able to get a decent education in town.

He smiled over at Lydia Brandon, who avoided his eyes with her usual adroitness, and then he glanced around the room and looked at his fellow students with a casual survey, after all, he saw them almost every day of the week. He nodded over at Reuben Cartwright and winked when the boy grinned back at him. He liked Reuben, they had got off to a bad start but it had soon smoothed out and now he felt a quiet protective friendship for the little fellow. That couldn’t be said about Leslie Downing, the son of the store keeper in town. David frowned slightly and shook his head, as far as he was concerned Leslie Downing was trouble, an unpleasant unkind boy who seemed to want nothing more than to cause hurt and pain to whoever he chose as a victim. It was unfortunate that the current such one happened to be Reuben Cartwright.

David sighed and picked up his pen and began to copy out his lesson. Not long before his graduation he told himself, then he would leave Virginia City behind and travel the world. Reuben Cartwright wasn’t the only one with hopes of going to sea, David was equally as inspired and longed for the day when he could shed the dirt of his father’s homestead and smell the fresh clean salt air aboard a ship. He looked up as Lydia said something relevant to his lesson and as he did so he glimpsed an action by Leslie Downing that caused him to look again.

The boy was leaning across to the lad next to him and whispering, whatever he was saying had brought a pallor to the other boys face and a startled expression. Leslie sniggered, and shrugged. He indicated a bag on the floor next to his feet and grinned. To David the whole thing felt charged with danger, an instinct inside of himself warned that there was going to be trouble and yet another voice whispered caution, hold back, wait and see.

The morning dragged by until recess came at last, and David made his way out to the yard. He followed Reuben and caught up with him, “Hey, Reuben, you heard from your Pa yet?”

“No, not yet. Ma said he was working on something important in Brazil. He’ll be home soon though.” Reuben grinned, freckles chased over his nose, “My Uncle Joe let me ride Kamille the other day, she’s one fine horse, David, you should come and see her. Remember the horse you carved for me? She’s just like that to look at …”

“I heard tell she was pure Arab, Reuben. That’s one of the best breeds of horse you can get. Your Pa really must be proud to have her .”

A noise from the far corner of the yard distracted them and they both turned to see what was the cause. Jamie Watt was on the edge of the little group but when he saw David and Reuben he ran over to join them. He was pale and said in an awed voice “Leslie Downing has a gun.”

“What?” David exclaimed and looked at Reuben, then at Jamie, “Are you sure?”

“Pip told me, he said that Leslie showed it to him when they were coming into school. It belonged to his Granpa.He got it out of his Pa‘s desk.” Jamie declared, and looked at Reuben, then back at David. “I don’t think Miss Brandon knows.”

“You’d best go and tell her, Jamie.” Reuben said urgently, “You’d best go and tell her right now.”

David thought of the bag that had been on the floor, the way the other lad had paled when Leslie had whispered over to him. Of course the gun must have been in that bag, but why would Leslie bring a gun to school? He looked at Reuben, “Stay here.” and placed a hand on Reuben’s chest and repeated “Stay here and don’t move.”

“Why not?” was Reubens immediate answer as he looked from David to Jamie who was running across the yard as fast as his spindly legs could carry him.

David Watson walked with confident steps to where the huddle of boys were grouped by the big tree in the school yard, “What’s going on here?”

Leslie Downing turned immediately and whereas any other boy would have taken pains to hide the weapon he merely laughed and brandished it in David’s face, above the heads of the other children who had been grouped around him exclaiming and wondering and making Leslie feel invincible by their approval and obvious, to him, envy.

David frowned “You’d best give that to me or to Miss Brandon, Downing. It’s dangerous to bring a weapon to school, you know that, don’t you?”

“Who says? I ain’t never heard anyone saying so. Anyhows, who are you to tell me what to do, Mr Cocksure Watson.” Leslie laughed and squeezed the trigger, the children stepped back, some ran away, some put their hands over their ears but nothing happened.
There was just the click as the hammer was released, the chamber had been empty, Leslie grinned.

“That was stupid, Leslie.” David said sharply, “Hand it over.”

“Who are you calling stupid, Watson? Are you calling me stupid, are you?” and Leslie pointed the gun straight at David so that the barrel was a mere few inches from the older boys face.

Younger children scattered to safety, and some ran yelling for Miss Brandon who was already coming from the school room and looking around the yard to locate the problem, James Watt ran across the yard to join Reuben who was slowly walking towards David.

“Just give me the gun.” David said calmly and put out his hand to seize it from the other boy who pulled it out of reach and fired it once again.

This time the gun exploded in his hand and the girls screamed, Miss Brandon screamed and Jamie Watt said “Oh!”

Reuben saw his friend fall just inches from him, right before his very eyes the unbelievable had happened and his young school companion just lay there, there were two more shots one after the after, Reuben turned to see David fall, stagger back, clutching at his chest, and then he saw Leslie’s face, and the look on it as the big lad stared directly at him and their eyes met...

Reuben turned and ran, adrenalin fueled his body, pumped through him, he felt the ground beneath his feet impact hard upon the soles of his boots, he felt hot air drifting into his face and something wet stinging his eyes so that he could barely see through salt tears. He ran until he was breathless and couldn’t run any further, and when he stopped he fell right into the arms of the sheriff.

Candy Canaday lifted Reuben up into his arms and ran, not in the direction of the school from where the bell was tolling wildly but towards Dr Martins surgery, he knew that Clem and Dodds were going to check what was going on there, but his first thought was to care for the boy who now lay in his arms and leaving splatters of blood puddling on the sidewalk as he ran to the surgery.

Clem and Dodds reached the school yard and then stopped in their tracks at the sight that they beheld. Neither one of them had seen anything like it in their town before and both hoped they would never see it again. Lydia Brandon was tugging at the bell rope as though her hands were glued to it, her eyes streaming tears while little girls huddled behind her skirts and clung to one another.

“You can stop ringing the bell now, Miss Brandon.” Dodds yelled but the words made no impact on the shocked young woman and the deputy had to pull her fingers from the rope before the tolling ended.

People from town were running towards the school, Bridie among them and unaware that her little Reuben was in the surgery being tended to by Paul. She looked around her and then hurried into the school room where she drew Lydia into her arms like the mother hen she was, and the children huddled into her like so many terrified chicks.

Dodds and Clem could hear the hum of voices behind them but didn’t look back, they just strode forward to where Leslie Downing stood with the gun still smoking in his hands, his face the colour of cream cheese and tears dribbling wet and heavy down his cheeks “I - I didn’t think it was loaded.” he insisted as Clem took the gun from him,”Honest, I didn’t.”

Children peered around each others shoulders as they grouped close together, eyes were wide, glazed, some were tear laden, some defiant. Clem looked down at David Watson and shook his head, there was little point in even trying to stop the blood, the boy was dead , no doubt about it. 

Dodds was kneeling beside Jamie Watt, trying to find a pulse. When Clem walked over to him he looked up “I think he’s still alive.”

Clem was about to speak when there was shouting from the crowd, a man ran forward “My son, my son … oh no no…” anguished cries as Mr Watt pushed Clem aside to kneel beside Jamie and gather him in his arms.

Candy was striding towards Leslie now, he put his hand on the boys shoulder “You’d best come along with me, you’ve a lot of explaining to do.”

“I didn’t know it was loaded. It was just lying around in a drawer. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” Leslie protested, his chins wobbling from his sobs.

“You did, you did,” someone yelled out among the huddle of children “You did know it was loaded too… you said so.”

“Yeah, you did.” another cried, “You did.”

“No, I didn’t … I didn’t…” Leslie shook his head, tears dripped from his chin and for an instant he struggled to get away from Candy’s grip.

Fear for his own child was high on the range of emotions raging through Candy at that time, but a glimpse of her standing beside Bridie on the school steps reassured and calmed him. He looked at Leslie and shook his head, what a start to the serious side of law keeping, the arrest of a child responsible for the death of at least one other human being. He felt sick to the stomach at the memory of the limp body he had carried over to the surgery. 

Mr Watts was carrying his son in his arms, holding him close, blood was staining his shirt. Leslie Downings father was pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered, had looked from Leslie to the scene in the playground and then at Candy. He said nothing, and without a word followed the sheriff and his prisoner to the jail house.

………..

Luke Dent knocked on the door of his sister’s home and pushed it open, it yielded to his touch and he stepped into the cool interior of the house and called her name. She was holding Nathaniel in her arms and looked up and smiled “I’ve just got him to sleep. How lovely to see you, Luke. Sofia, ask ..”

“No,” Luke raised a hand “No, Livvy, there’s no time for that, you need to get to town. Somethings happened, Reubens been hurt.”

Now she could see Marcy standing beside Luke, and for a moment she thought she had misheard what her brother had said because she didn’t move except to continue rocking her baby too and fro. Marcy came and touched her arm “Reuben needs you in town, Olivia. I’ll stay here with the children.”

Luke felt his blood turn cold at the sight of his sister’s face draining of colour. He wondered if she were going to faint and stepped forward to catch her just in case, but Olivia collected herself together, shook her head as though to clear cob webs and then passed Nathaniel to Marcy “I’ve just fed him.” she whispered, and then looked at Luke, “Reuben? Hurt?”

Luke just nodded and reached out to take hold of her by the elbow and lead her away, but she resisted for a moment and called Sofia to her side “Darling, I have to go into town, be a good girl for Aunt Marcy will you?”

Sofia knew better than to argue, to protest or insist on going with her mother, she only nodded and slowly slipped her hand into Marcy’s. The reassurance of her aunt’s fingers curling around her own gave her the strength not to cry.
……………

The town was shocked, stunned. Ann Canaday went to assist Bridie in caring for the shocked young teacher and the children who lived out of town, discussing ways in which to get them home to their parents. Children who lived in town had already been collected and taken away from the school, to the safety of their homes, to anxious cuddles and reassuring hugs. 

David Watsons body was taken to the mortuary where his parents and family gathered to say their last farewells and try to comprehend the fact that their eldest son would never come home again, and any ambitions he had, whether to go to sea or stay at home, would never be fulfilled. His dreams, like himself, were now mere dust.

Jamie Watt was being operated on by Dr Schofield while his parents  blubbered and wept in a small ante-chamber close by. The bullet had struck him in the chest, had gone right through the little thin body. The problem was the amount of blood he had lost and the amount of damage to the internal organs… Scofield was still exploring to find out.

Olivia sat in the waiting room with her hand in Luke’s. Her face was white and her eyes colourless. She couldn’t cry, whenever she tried to think of what was happening and where she was, her brain said ‘I don’t believe it’. so she didn’t, so she couldn’t cry. When it was real, then she would cry. When she knew it was real… 

Paul Martin and Jimmy Chang found the bullet and extracted it carefully. They had looked at one another and raised their eyebrows, Jimmy glanced at the door and then the clock. Paul looked down at the still pale face of the child with freckles chasing over his nose and long lashes shading his cheeks. 

“He kept running even after he was hit.” Jimmy whispered as Paul dropped the bullet into the bowl. It made a metallic cold clink and then rolled back and forth a little.

“Adrenalin. He probably didn’t even realise he’d been hit. Saw his friends fall and then turned to run, and kept running.” Paul muttered gruffly and put the bowl carefully on to the table close by.

“What shall I tell his mother?” Jimmy asked quietly 

“Nothing.” Paul said with a deep sigh, “I’ll go and talk to her as soon as we’ve finished here. I dread to think …” he paused, there was no point in speculating or assuming, no point at all. “Let’s get on, Jimmy, we don’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary.”
…………..

The statements took a while to get written, children don’t give very coherent details of events when in shock, terrified at what they had witnessed. Candy was patient with each one, each child accompanied by a parent, each parent frightened for their child. It took a long time before he could put them all together and set them to one side.

Lydia Brandon’s statement was clear and concise, brief and to the point. She had known nothing until Jamie Watt had come running in to tell her Leslie had a gun. She had cried a little, wiped her eyes and given a sensible account of what she had seen happen.

When they had all gone Candy was left with his deputies and the store keeper who was glaring at him constantly, protesting his sons innocence, insisting that the gun had been empty and no, he hadn’t realised it had gone.

In a cell Leslie sat and stared at the bars that were in front of him. His father had hired Hiram Woods to defend him, and Hiram had said that a child of his tender years should not be in a jail but Candy had insisted on bail. Hiram had agreed that bail should be set at $5000. Leslie was twelve years old and Candy was wondering if the boy would live to be thirteen.

Chapter 38

Ben pulled off his string tie and draped it over the door handle, he paused a moment to look at his reflection in the mirror and wondered what a woman would find attractive about him now, at his age. It seemed to him that Paloma Barrington had certainly paid him a lot of attention during that meal, while Silas had seemed to retreat further and further into his shell. In some ways he wished that Roy had come along with him, but in other ways he was glad that his old friend had chosen to find other amusements.

He sighed and shook his head, fleeting memories of those he had loved and lost drifted through his mind.. Joyce … he sighed again and wondered what on earth had happened to her. He turned as the knock came on his door and he smiled, only Roy would knock like that, so he called out for him to come in and stop hanging around. Roy was grinning like a Cheshire cat when he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him

“Have a good evening?” he asked his friend who nodded and said it had been ‘very pleasant’. Roy removed his hat and tossed it onto a chair, then sat down on the ottoman. “I had an interesting evening too.”

“I’m glad you did.” Ben smiled and passed his hand over his hair, “You look pretty pleased with yourself.”

“Guess that’s because I am.” Roy replied and regarded his friend with some interest which made Ben feel uncomfortable, upon noticing that Roy grinned “Like the lady ,huh?”

“She’s very attractive,” Ben began to slowly unbutton his shirt, hoping that as he did so his friend would get the hint and return to his own room, “Very good company.”

“I heard tell she was .. Good company I mean.”

Ben sighed and frowned, then turned to face Roy “What’s on your mind, Roy? Best say something now or regret it later.”

Roy shook his head “You planning on seeing them again?”

“Yes, tomorrow as it happens. You’re welcome to come along too, Roy. I have told them about you being with me so they won’t be surprised.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, but I doubt if an ex-lawman would be of any interest to them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ben gave Roy a rather narrow eyed look and slowly unbuttoned some more of his shirt.

“It means that we should be getting back to town.” Roy stood up and reached for his hat, “Before you get yourself all entangled with that female.”

“Roy?” Ben looked aghast as though the insinuation was ridiculous although as the back of his mind he knew that such a thing was possible, he shook his head “What have you been doing, Roy? Making enquiries on my behalf?”

“Yep, seemed like someone had to before you go making a fool of yourself. Heck, Ben, your boys take after you more’n you realise…”

“I don’t want to hear, Roy.” he turned his back on his old friend and pulled off his shirt which he flung onto the bed. 

“You should, it makes interesting hearing.” Roy drawled as he walked towards the door .

His hand had barely touched the handle when there was an abrupt knocking, upon opening the door the bell boy nodded and glanced from one man to the other “Excuse me, which one of you is Mr Ben Cartwright?”

“I am.” Ben barked which caused the lad to look rather startled and Roy to step back a pace or two.

“Mr Cartwright, sir, I’m sorry but there’s two telegrams arrived for you.” 

Ben scowled, looked at Roy as though it were all his fault and snatched the envelopes from the boy who stammered “I think they want a reply.”

“Thank you” Ben muttered as he turned towards the window and ripped open the envelope of the first cable.

It was brief and to the point, urging his prompt return as Reuben had been hurt in a shooting incident, it was signed Candy.

“What’s happened?” Roy asked immediately and stepped forward to take the cablegram from his friends hand while Ben opened the other and read “REUBEN SHOT SERIOUS COME HOME PA SIGNED JOE”

He turned to the boy who was hovering on the landing “When’s the last stage leave?”

“It’s already gone, sir. Won’t be another until the morning, but the last train to Golds Hill will leave in about an hour.”

“We won’t make it in time,” Roy muttered and sighed, “We just got to sit it out til the morning.”

“He could be - dead - by then.” Ben said in such a hollow sounding voice that Roy had to lower his head and stare at the rug, “What on earth happened…?”

The boy cleared his throat “Do you want to send a reply to the cables, sir?”

Ben nodded, the least he could do was send them some reassurance that he was on his way back home, he glanced hurriedly at Roy before putting his hand in his pocket and drawing out some loose change “Look, son, do you think you could run to the station and ask them to wait on two passengers, it won’t be long, tell them we won’t be more than a few minutes.”

“Well, I don’t know, sir, it’s about a 15 minute run to the station and …”

“Try, will you?” Ben cried, snatching at the clothes he had just recently discarded, “Run as fast as you can. Take this money and tell them it’s Ben Cartwright and - and Sheriff Roy Coffee.”

The boy looked from one to another “I’ll try, sir.”

Roy was already heading for his own room, he gave a wry grimace at the fact that Ben had referred to him as Sheriff once more, but then anything to swing a favourable decision and to get to Virginia City as soon as they possibly could. By the time he had his grip ready Ben was hurrying from his room with his own carpet bag in his hand.

It took moments, frustratingly long moments to settle their bills, to explain that their departure was due to an emergency. In the rush to leave the hotel they met the boy who was gasping for breath “I managed to get a ten minute delay, sir, you should just about make it if you hurry.”

“Good lad,” Ben said with more hope in his voice than he actually felt as he hurried onwards with Roy puffing alongside him.

The train departed within ten minutes, the two elderly men sat for a while struggling to catch their breath, and fumbling for money to pay the ticket collector who was already giving them a black mark for causing a delay to the train schedules. When finally they had the train compartment to themselves Roy said, between panting and puffing, “We could have got some horses, it’s closer to Virginia City from here than it is from San Francisco.”

“As a last resort, Roy, I would have done even that …” Ben replied removing his hat and wiping sweat from his brow, he finally released a long breath and sat back with his eyes closed “Roy, I shouldn’t have left town.”

“Nope, was a fools errand all round.” Roy said which was really encouraging for his old friend to hear and he got a rather fierce scowl from Ben as a result. “Those folk you were looking up on behalf of Martha Frobisher..”

“What about them?” Ben sighed and the memory of Paloma’s face drifted into his vision.

“They’re bankrupt, poor as church mice. They ain’t got a dime left to their name.”

Ben shook his head and pursed his lips “Hard to believe that tale, Roy. You never saw the house they were in, the servants …”

“Belongs to an old friend of theirs who owes them a favour. Fact is he’s getting a mite tired of being beholden to them and hopes they’ll move on soon. You coming along like you did, well, as I said, good thing we’re leaving now rather than later.”

That comment did him no favours either, Ben scowled darker than ever and scrunched himself up into the corner of the compartment next to the window. His thoughts trickled from Paloma to Reuben, from Reuben to Olivia and from anxieties for her to fears for his son, Adam.
………..

Hester was crying, the tears caught at her throat and caused her to gasp for breath, even though Hoss had his arms around her and cradled her close to his chest she just couldn’t stop crying. Mary Ann was pacing the floor, wringing her hands, dabbing at her cheeks as she walked while her husband stood watching her, forlorn and miserable at heart because she was too restless to gain the comfort from his arms.

“Oh I hate it here, I hate it.” Mary Ann suddenly burst out in a shudder of a voice “All this violence, this mindless violence.”

“Mary Ann,” Joe said quietly and caught at her hand, drew her closer to him “I - please - just sit down and -”

“I can’t, I can’t just sit down.” Mary Ann whispered and grabbed at his hands as though she couldn’t bear to release them “Joe, it was you a few months ago, I thought I was going to lose you … and there was that awful business with the Chinese when they nearly killed Hoss. Every day something awful is happening in this town, every day I wonder if you’ll come home alive… I can’t bear it any longer, I can’t.”

She stopped speaking then as though she had put her feelings into words that couldn’t be retracted and it frightened her. She looked at Joe, shook her head and leaned into him “Oh Joe, Joe, little Rueben of all people, why did it have to be him?”

“At least he’s still alive, sweet heart.” Joe whispered, “He’s a real little fighter, he’ll be alright.”

Hester looked up with her eyes swollen and red rimmed “You can’t guarantee that, Joe. No one can…”

“I believe he’ll come through,” Joe said as though that was all that mattered and turned his attention back to Mary Ann.

A door opened and Ann Canaday came in with a tray laden with coffee and some refreshments “It isn’t much, but I thought you would need something by now.”

Hester whispered her thanks and her cousin nodded, looked over at Mary Ann and Joe, then again at Hoss and Hester “The children are asleep, it took a little while to calm them down but they’re rested now. Sofia was upset, as you can imagine, but she’s sleeping.”

“Is there any news yet, from Paul?” Hoss asked but Ann shook her head, and said that there was nothing, no news yet.

Joe looked at his brother “I wish Pa were here, he should never have gone like he did.”

“No one can tell when a bad things going to happen, Joe. You gotta be sensible about this kind of thing, can’t blame Pa.” Hoss sighed and picked up the coffee pot “Anyhow, if anyone should be here, it should be Adam.”

No one said anything to that, perhaps they all thought the same but didn’t dare to put it into words. 

………….

Olivia held her sons hand tightly within her own, every so often she raised it to her cheek and pressed it there as though bestowing upon it a blessing, a prayer, a kiss. Luke Dent stood close by as though guarding the door although he knew that no one would trespass upon them now, not even the family who had been such a stalwart support until Olivia had told them to go and get some rest. Yes, she had promised they would be called upon if they were needed and she had hugged them and gained strength from their loving hugs in return.

Bridie had hovered and done what she could, providing food and drink, words of comfort, encouragement, but even she had been gently told to go to her bed. A mother, Olivia had said quietly, should be with her child at this time.

So she sat by his side, holding his hand, stroking his brow. Sometimes she would talk to him about the days events, about Kamille and the colt, about Adam and the ship. She watched his face all the time, hungry to see a glimpse of movement, a flicker of an eyelid. The pale still face with the scattering of golden freckles remained without motion, nothing.

Luke came and placed a hand on her shoulder, leaned down to whisper in her ear but she shook her head, no, she didn’t want to leave him, she was alright. She looked up at him and smiled, placed her hand upon his “Go and see if Marcy is alright, Luke. You’re tired, and she will be as well.”

“What about Nathaniel? Do you want me to bring him here .. I mean … you’re nursing him after all and …”

She nodded and then turned towards Reuben, leaned towards him to make sure there was no change since she had last looked, she heard the door close behind her brother but didn’t turn her head to make sure he had gone.

 

 

Chapter 39

Howard Jefferson was bent over some fragments that he was holding in his hands, he was so intent on looking at them that he didn’t even hear their approach despite the fact that Yates slipped on some rubble and practically fell down the last remaining steps.

The path that they had been following had ended with a flight of stairs that led into some underground room. It was obvious to all that the walls had been constructed carefully by whoever had at one time lived in the ruins of the town above them. It was large, with the ceiling panelled in with tiles, some of which still displayed colourful designs. The three of them stared up at the evidence of some past mens endeavours as though they couldn’t believe their eyes.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?”Scolley said in an almost reverent tone of voice, “Can you imagine how we felt when we found it? The whole entrance was covered over with vines and growth but when we located this -” his hand waved towards the ceiling, along the sides of the walls, “Evidence of the people who were here many centuries ago.”

“So,” Yates said slowly drawling out the word as he rubbed his thigh which had caught against the rocks upon his swifter than usual descent,” This isn ‘t that city they were talking about, the one the Spanish and Portuguese built all that time ago?”

Scolleys shoulders slumped as though he couldn’t believe the ignorance of the man, he looked at Adam and Jotham as though in sympathy for having endured the dolt for so long, “No, my dear sir, this city was built centuries before the Spanish and Portuguese even existed.” he shook his head “I don’t deny there being such a place, I’ve heard rumours before about its existence and the treasure it’s supposed to have hidden within it, but this is much more important .”

Yates sighed “Well, that’s a matter of opinion really isn’t it? After all, have you found any treasure here?”

Jefferson turned now, his face creased in a scowl of irritation as he looked at the three newcomers, “Who are these, Scolley?”

Professor Scolley did the introductions but the scowl didn’t fade from the thin features of the other man. He fixed Yates, in particular, with a dark look “Reporter huh?”

“Yes.” Yates nodded, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Professor Jefferson.”

Howard Jefferson just shook his head and then looked at Scolley “Take a look at these, Michael. Tell me what you think?”

His voice held a tremor of excitement, if he had found a ruby or a priceless emerald the excitement in his voice could not have been heard more clearly, Jotham and Adam looked at one another, Jotham shook his head “They’re both as crazy as crickets, sir.”

“Well, they’re dedicated to this kind of work, that’s all.” Adam replied in a whisper.

“It’s not going to be easy to get Jefferson out of here, is it?”

Adam pursed his lips and looked at the two men as they examined the fragments they held in their hands, turning them over and over, exclaiming about this, noticing something else and nodding their heads enthusiastically. “No, I don’t think it will be.”

Yates tapped Adam on the shoulder “This place gives me the creeps.”

“Most things give you the creeps as you call it, Yates. Just wait a while, will you, there’s nothing we can do about things at the moment.” Adam responded and then looked at Jotham, “What do you think?”

“I don’t know, sir, I don’t know what to think. I have my orders …”

“So do I.” Adam frowned and looked over at the two men, who, perhaps sensing that they were under observation turned to them, Scolley grinned and held up a fragment of pottery

“See here? Evidence again of our findings, proof if ever we needed it of the fact that Phoenicians did come and build this city.”

“May be so, but it doesn’t prove that the people now indigenous to this area are their descendents.” Adam said and Scolley frowned and pursed his lips, looked at Jefferson who shook his head in disagreement.

“How else could they have got here?” Yates ventured to ask and got a withering look in response.

Jefferson set down the fragment of pottery and approached Adam and Jotham as though he had only just realised that they were really there, flesh and bone standing in the middle of a place filled with the ghosts of his imaginings. “Exactly who are you both?”

“Captain Adam Cartwright, American Navy. This is Captain Jotham Morton.”

“And why are you here?” Jefferson asked in a strangely high pitched voice as his eyes moved from one to the other of them.

“Well, sir, we’ve actually come to take you back to America with us.” Adam replied as matter of factly as he possibly could.

Jefferson frowned and then looked at Scolley “Did you hear that, Michael, they want to take me back to America.”

“So I heard.” Scolley said, and stroked his chin, “That’ll leave me awful short handed, Howard. What with Anatoly being dead.”

Jefferson sighed and looked at the two Americans, “You know Sokolovich died?”

“We heard.” Adam replied “We also heard that you’d been ill, sir.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t dengue fever or anything like that,” Howard said in a conversational tone of voice, “It was because I’d been drinking their filthy liquor for too long, gave me the D.T’s. Mrs Mendes took good care of me, knew exactly what to do…”

“Mrs Mendes is dead, sir, she was killed by some men who are looking for you.” Jotham said in not so amicable a tone of voice as Adams.

“Dead?” Jefferson shook his head, “Poor woman. Why did they kill her?”

“Because they thought you may have told her about the location of a secret city where there’s trea-sure, not the kind of treasure you look for, but the kind that the majority want to find ..diamonds and gold for instance.” Jotham told him and saw a look of comprehension dawn over Jeffersons’ face, “You do know what I mean, don’t you, sir?”

“Yes, of course. How did those men come to know about all that?” was the next question to which Jotham patiently explained that they had been part of their first expedition, and had been only too happy to help Yates out when he wanted to locate them. This brought Yates back to the attention of the two archaeologists who shook their heads and drew aside to converse together in low tones.

Yates took to wandering around the chamber, every so often he would kick some piece of rubble to one side or pause to stare at some design or inscription of the brickwork that formed the walls. He had his hands in his pockets and was whistling beneath his breath. Jotham and Adam watched him for a while and then turned to observe the other two men who were back to examining their shard of pottery.

“We could be here forever,” Jotham whispered, “It seems to me that those two have no idea of time or any sense of urgency about the matter we’re here to discuss with them.”

Adam nodded, he watched as the two men walked further into the cavern and began to examine something else, exclamations of “This is a beautiful piece, Michael.” “Wonderful, simply wonderful.” floated their way, Yates whistling became louder, echoing in the vastness of the chamber. 

“Strange to think how old all this is, isn’t it?” Adam said quietly as he gazed once more up at the ceiling “Look at that design, Jotham, what does it remind you of?”

Jotham looked up and craned his neck in order to do so “A chart.” he said, “I mean, it looks like a map of some kind. Not enough to tell exactly what, too dark to see in places.”

Jefferson looked over at them and smiled “You’re right, though. It is a chart, so far as we have been able to make out it’s a map of the night sky as seen from Tyre. That’s one of the locations of the ancient Phonicians. We think they put it there so that they would be able to trace their way back home again.”

Scolley came over and stood by their side and looked up at the caverns roof “On a really bright day this cavern fills with light, the ceiling - what remains to be seen - looks quite wonderful. The first people who came here were seamen, like yourselves, and I suppose they would come here and imagine themselves back at sea, in their ships.”

Adam nodded “I can see what you mean, so why did they stay and not return?”

“That’s what we want to find out, what we’re looking for, clues to their past, clues to these people who live here now and their future.”

Yates came up now, his hands in his pockets still and shrugged “They won’t have much future if you go telling the world about this, not that many will be interested but it just takes a few wrong uns to get interested and you say Bobs your uncle to that lot.” he jerked his head upwards to indicate his meaning.

Jefferson frowned “That’s the problem, it puts us in an awkward position really.” he removed his spectacles and began to wipe them slowly on his jacket “We need sponsorship, that’s true, but we don’t need the kind of publicity that will bring people here to harm our friends.”

“What exactly do you mean, Mr Jefferson?” Adam asked with his head to one side as he looked at the two men as though with renewed interest.

“Well, we can’t let Mr Yates leave here thinking he can write up his stories of what we have found, can we?” Jefferson looked at Scolley who stroked his chin and frowned as though this was a new consideration.

“At the same time,” Adam said very slowly, as though weighing every word “Having made such a wonderful discovery, and as scientists, don’t you want the world to know what you have found?”

Scolley bowed his head, it was something he had almost admitted to in an earlier conversation with Adam and now he felt guilty hearing it voiced in front of Jefferson. The other man shook his head “We can wait, we have to consider other factors.”

Jotham now stepped forward “Like being taken back to America to stand trial for murder, Mr Jefferson?”

Scolley stepped back, obviously shocked at what Jotham had said and he looked first at his associate before asking Jotham to explain himself, Jotham nodded and raised his chin. “I’ve been sent here with a warrant for your arrest, Howard Jefferson, ,for the murder of your brother, Senator Sackville Jefferson, whose body was found at the family home in Albany.”

Scolley looked reproachfully at Adam “And you, sir? Are you privy to this information?”

Adam nodded “Of course. Its my duty to ensure that Mr Jefferson returns to America in order to stand trial.”

Yates released a long whistle “Blimey,” he said quietly, “That’s what I call a real scoop.”

For a moment there was total silence until Scolley looked at Jefferson “Is this true, Howard?”

The other man removed his glasses slowly, and it occurred to Adam that the man was weary to exhaustion, a dust covered hand swept over haggard features and the glasses were replaced carefully as though every action had to be thought out in order to be accomplished “This isn’t the place to talk about it. Let’s get outside into the fresh air so we can breathe.”

Scolley glanced over at Adam and raised an eyebrow, at the officers slight nod of the head the Professor led the way from the cavern and out into daylight. The sun was high in the heavens and the sky very blue, the five men made their way along the footpath to where there was a slight clearing, a place where once upon a time perhaps others had paused and sat to talk. Jefferson wiped his brow for he was sweating profusely now, and appeared glad to be able to sit down upon an upturned and dying tree.

“It’s quite true. Sackville was the eldest brother, and as you rightly stated, a Senator. Our father had been prominent in politics and my brother followed in his footsteps. It was assumed that I would do likewise but my love was in the study of history, people of the past, their culture and traditions. I explored the world as much as I could, but whenever I returned home Sackville would insist that I followed the family into politics. You see, he had no children. He had a wife, but … he really wasn’t the kind of man who should have got married, if you know what I mean.”

Jotham and Adam said nothing to that, although Jotham now ventured to say that whatever Jefferson was going to say he would be required to put in writing later. Jefferson merely shrugged and appeared not to be bothered one way or the other. Yates however had a notebook and pencil poised immediately and began jotting down what he had already heard as a reliable record should Jefferson not get round to making his statement later.

“I loved Matilda, she was a lovely woman and supported me as much as she could in my expeditions. Of course she was loyal to Sackville, he was that kind of man really, you couldn’t help but love him.” he groped about in his pocket as though in search of something and finally found what he was looking for, a silver flask which he looked at for a moment before flicking off the lid and taking a gulp of its contents. “I was preparing for this expedition with Michael and Anatoly, of course, I needed funds. We always seem to need funds …” his lips twisted in irony and he took another sip from the flask, “I begged, borrowed and did whatever I could to get as much as I needed then Sackville found I was leaving and there was an argument. We quarrelled, like brothers do, but this time Sackville was incensed about more than my leaving for this expedition. He accused me of -” he paused and gulped some more of what smelled like brandy, “of something disgusting regarding Matilda, I denied it, there was a tussle. He picked up a knife from a desk and that was it really, we fought, he had the knife and suddenly the knife was in him. He was dead.”

“Did you use the knife to kill him?” Jotham asked but Jefferson shook his head vehemently in denial, “How do you explain his death?”

“I can’t - I mean - I can, because it happened as a result of the struggle, we were rolling on the floor, knocking over furniture, it was hellish. I think it was just that in the struggle he fell upon the knife and killed himself.”

“You claim it to be an accident then?” Jotham said to which Jefferson nodded with a sigh.

“I knew he was dead right away, Matilda came into the room, there were some servants crowding round but she was marvellous, got them to leave saying there had been an accident. She helped me -.”

Silence hung upon them all, Yates paused in his writing and looked up, ready to continue. In the distance came the sound of gun fire and Adam turned to Scolley who looked suddenly alert and terrified at the same time. He turned to leave but Adam put out a hand to prevent him. Adam narrowed his eyes, his head turned to wards the gunfire then he said quietly “It’s too far away, we’d never get there in time to help them.”

Chapter 40

It was hard to know if the Indians had gained a victory or suffered a loss as their return to the village was dignified and silent. There was no change to the usual routine, their life continued with just one difference and that was the mourning of those women and children who had lost their husband, or son, or father. 

There was no evidence of any prisoners, or victims of any attack. Scolley and Jefferson offered no explanation, it was as though whatever had happened at the scene of the fight had never happened except for the weeping of women.

Adam found Jefferson sitting alone on the outskirts of the village, his head bowed and hands clasped as though in prayer. He glanced up briefly as Adam approached but said nothing. Adam glanced around, noticed that they were alone and sat down on a rock facing the other man. He cleared his throat “So? Do you want to finish explaining what happened when your brother was killed?”

“Not really. I’d rather forget all about it, I’d almost managed to do that, you know, until you came.” Jefferson mumbled and shook his head, he leaned forward slightly so that his head almost touched that of the Captains, “Look, my brother was an unscrupulous man, to be honest this world is better off without him. Why not forget all about it and let me continue with my work here?”

“Because I can’t, I have my orders.” Adam said quietly

“The law? So black and white? You had to come all this way to find me and take me back because my brother happened to kill himself.”

“We’ve only your word for that, Mr Jefferson.”

“Professor - it’s Professor Jefferson.” 

Adam drew in his breath and nodded “Very well, Professor Jefferson. Let me explain a few things to you… firstly, no matter what kind of man your brother happened to be, he was still a human being and he was killed violently. Secondly he was important, a senator, and Government won’t leave the matter alone, they may want a scapegoat, they may want a murderer, but they’ll just keep on looking until they find one. Thirdly, you left someone at home, an innocent party …”

“Matilda?” Jefferson looked up, fear flashed over his face at a thought that suddenly occurred to him, “She’s alright?”

Adam nodded but only slightly, “I was given this before I left, Professor. I suppose Mrs Jefferson still has contacts as she sent a friend of hers to my ship before I left America, it was to give me this for you.” and he withdrew from his pocket a small square of paper, sealed with red wax. He held it out to Jefferson who hesitated slightly, and then reached out to take it. Adam cleared his throat.

Niether man spoke, Jefferson could only sit there and stare down at the little piece of paper and Adam could only sit and wait for the man to do something, say something. It was Jefferson who spoke first “Have you ever been in love, Captain Cartwright?”

“Yes, I love my wife ..very much.”

“Matilda was - was always loyal to Sackville, she knew I loved her, had always loved her but the marriage had been arranged years before, she’s from a very prominent family in Albany you see?” he glanced at Adam to see if there was any sign of sympathy, “I never even held her hand, not a glance between us that could be considered inappropriate. I stayed away on my expeditions for as long as I could, but she always drew me back there, always.”

“Do you want a moment alone to read your letter?” Adam asked quietly and rising to his feet.

“No, it’s alright.” Jefferson whispered, and looked at the small missive, “I doubt if there’s much written in this, it’s quite small, isn’t it?”

Adam turned aside as Jefferson broke the wax seal, and heard the mans breathing get faster and then Jefferson stood up “When do we leave?”

Adam narrowed his eyes slightly, then raised his eyebrows as though to question what Jefferson had said, but the other man merely held up the paper “They’re going to arrest her for murder.”

Adam nodded and released his breath “I was afraid that they would. Hoped that they wouldn’t.” he paused, “The death of your brother was over 18 months ago now, somehow she succeeded in covering for you until some new evidence was found and, of course, her attempts to help you only made her situation worse. Apart from other concerns with regard to this assignment, both Captain Morton and myself were ordered to find you and bring you back.”

“I can’t let her be arrested for something of which she is totally innocent.” Jefferson said as he tucked the letter into his jacket pocket, “You do understand, don’t you?”

Adam nodded, secretly he was delighted by the result of the letter, it had saved a lot of time talking the matter over and trying to persuade the man to come with them, perhaps even having to resort to force, which could have become very unpleasant.

“I’ll tell Scolley.” Jefferson said, and sighed “Perhaps I’ll be able to come back here some day.” he glanced wistfully around the encampment, at the peaceful women and children, the men lounging against the doorframes of their homes taking their ease, he shrugged “It’s so peaceful.”

Adam nodded again, he wondered how peaceful it had been hours earlier when there had been those gun shots, how many had fallen to poison darts, how many killed by bullets. It seemed beneath a peaceful surface anywhere, death and danger co-existed and broke forth at will.

Jotham Morton was lingering by their dwelling, he had remained patiently waiting for Adams return and had watched the two men as they had spoken together at some distance from him. Jotham had a patience that his cousin Daniel had often lacked, and even though there had been times when he had considered this particular assignment difficult and somewhat strange he had doggedly continued on without complaint. 

Both he and the Captain had been ordered to disclose to no one that one of the reasons they were being sent to the Pantonal was to locate and arrest, in Jotham’s case, Howard Jefferson. There was to be no discussion between them within the hearing of any other person so with Yates always within hearing distance niether of them had disclosed their own concerns regarding this situation.

It had worried Jotham, the secrecy and the complexity of the whole matter all wrapped up with the promise of gold and diamonds, hidden cities and so much more. He wracked his brains while waiting for Adam to return as to why the powers that be had waited 18 months to send them looking for Jefferson in the first place. 

He gave Adam a wry grin as the Captain returned to the hut, “Did everything go alright?”

Adam glanced around him, not that it mattered now about Yates or Scolley, they both knew now one of the reasons why two officers representing the American Government were there. “You know, Jotham, we’ve said all along this was a strange assignment, haven’t we?”

Jotham nodded, a slight frown on his brow “What did he say? Did he deny it?”

“Not at all..” and Adam proceeded to repeat what Jefferson had said, after which both men were silent for a while, “I still wonder why it took them 18 months to decide to look for Jefferson.”

“I kept saying it was strange -” Jotham murmured, “What do we do about Scolley?”

“Nothing, we weren’t told to bring him back to America..and if there had been a real English Governmental representative then it would be up to him to deal with the Professor.”

“You gave Jefferson a letter… what was that, sir?”

Adam glanced at Jotham, then smiled after all Jotham was the one responsible for the arrest of the man, he, Adam, was merely sent to bring him back home. In his capacity Jotham was entitled to ask and Adam duly told him “Matilda Jefferson wrote to tell him that she was being arrested on suspicion of Sackville’s death.”

“But she hasn’t been - not to my knowledge.”Jotham frowned, “She must think that she will be though. Did you read the letter?”

“I know what the letter contains.” Adam replied soberly, and pursed his lips, “Jefferson’s a worried man, he loves her -”

“But does he love her enough to walk to the gallows in her place?”

Adam didn’t reply to that, he just stood and watched as Jefferson approached Scolley and the two men walked off together into their own hut.

Chapter 41 

Bridie O’Flannery Martin shook the woman gently by the shoulder, then whispered her name “Olivia? Olivia?”

It had been a long and anxious time for the family and for those who loved them. Su Ling and Bridie had been constant in their care, Mary Ann and Hester sitting with Reuben while Olivia nursed Nathaniel and tended to him, or spent a little time with Sofia who was scared by this sudden and terrifying turn of events.

Night fell again and still the little boy lay so still on the bed in Pauls’ surgery. Olivia had dosed into a deep sleep for she was physically and mentally exhausted so when she awoke to Bridie’s gentle urging she sprung up with nerves tingling as though she had experienced an electric shock “what’s happened? Rueben?”

“He’s alright, well, as alright as he can be just now, my dear.” 

“I thought - for a moment - oh Bridie, Bridie, why has it been so long? Surely he should be getting better now, stronger?”

“He is getting stronger, believe me.” Bridie said and sat down beside her younger friend, “I’ve brought you some food.”

“No, I can’t eat it -” she turned her head away like a child who found eating objectionable but Bridie persisted by bringing a tray of food to the bedside and setting it down on a table.

“You must eat something, Olivia. You’re feeding Nathaniel, and if you don’t eat, then your milk will dry up and he’ll be hungry. Come now, you have to think of your little one as well.”

Olivia shook her head and then turned to look at her little boy, she smiled briefly and touched his cheek “He’s still warm to touch.”

“Of course he is, I told you, dear, he’s getting stronger.”

“He’s going to be a handsome man when he grows up.” her voice wobbled, she was glad she hadn’t said ‘If he grows up’ but the thought was there, under the surface.

“He will be handsome, yes indeed he will be.” Bridie returned to another area of the room where she had left the tray of coffee fixings and these she brought to the small table. “Now, come, eat something otherwise you will simply faint away when he wakes up. He’ll want to see you strong now, won’t he?”

“He is a little like Robert,” Olivia said, leaning closer to her little boy, “He has Roberts’ nose, but other than that he looks more like Luke and my brother, Philip.”

“Well there now, people often say boys resemble their mother’s more, and girls their father.”

“Oh I don’t know, Nathaniel is so like Adam …” Olivia sighed, and then closed her eyes and put her hands up to press her fingers against them in order to stop the tears flowing “Oh I’m sorry, Bridie, it’s so hard to be brave when I feel so alone. I feel so - bereft - I so wish Adam were here right now, I need him here, Bridie, I really really do.” and with a sob she fell forwards into Bridie’s comforting arms and allowed herself to be petted and whispered reassuringly to while she wept.

If she could only put into words the longing she now felt for her husband to be by her side. This was just about the loneliest place to be, to sit by her son’s bedside without her husband near by. It was just too much to bear.

“Adam would be here if he could,” Bridie whispered, “You know that he would be, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course.” she whispered back, her voice suffused with tears, “But he seems so far away.”

“Be brave, Olivia, you’ve managed so well so far, do take heart in knowing that you have so many here who love you and your little boy. So many prayers being said for you both.”

“I know, I know… I don’t mean to be selfish …oh Bridie, Bridie, I feel lost without him by my side.”

“Hush now, I understand.” Bridie whispered again and remembered a time in her own life when her husband had left home on a fishing trip, and she had been alone when her son had been born. A premature little boy who had died in her arms. It had been her loneliest time, a time she didn’t like revisiting in her mind even now that she felt so happy and secure in her new life.

After a while she calmed enough to sit and eat a little of the food Bridie had brought in for her, she paused a moment to look over at her friend who was sitting beside Reuben “Bridie?”

“Yes, dear?”

“David Watsons parents and poor little Jamie’s parents… how are they?”

Bridie sighed and shook her head, tears sprung to her eyes as she recalled the time spent with both sets of parents, she bowed her head “Oh, I can’t describe their heartache, Olivia, only to say that in their grief they asked after you and told me to tell you that you were in their prayers.”

A smile that contained so much sadness touched Olivia’s lips and she nodded “David carved Reuben such a beautiful model of a horse last year, it’ll mean -” her voice quavered “It’ll mean more than ever to him now.”

“David was a fine boy, little Jamie was an only child to older parents - they’re suffering so much and -” she paused and wiped her eyes, “I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s been so hard for everyone, poor Mr and Mrs Watts, little Jamie was so precious to them, just as David was to - to his parents. Poor Lydia Brandon is sick with shock …” 

Olivia pushed the food away and stood up to begin pacing the room again, this time she began to beat one small fist into the palm of her other hand “I just can’t understand it, I keep trying to, but I can’t understand how a child could be so evil, so cruel, as to take a loaded gun to school.”

“He claims that he didn’t know it was loaded.”

“Oh, he must have known, he’s lived here most of his life, Bridie, children out here know when a gun is loaded or not. Why did his father allow him to take it? Why …” she paused and remembered the incident of the slingshot, the broken window, and Mr Downings threatening attitude when he had spoken to Ben, “That’s it, Bridie, that’s why, he was getting revenge on Reuben and Jamie for breaking the window.”

“What window?” Bridie looked confused and then remembered the incident, after all Mr and Mrs Downing had made no secret of what had happened when explaining to their customers about it, “Oh, Olivia, try not to think about it, try not to keep going over and over it, after all, Leslie’s going to be the only one who really knows why he did it.”

Olivia shook her head and came to stand beside her son, she took a deep breath and nodded, “I suppose you’re right, but I can’t help feeling so angry, it’s like a tight knot here-” she clasped a fist against her chest “and I feel I just want to explode, I don’t know if I’m angry at him or his father, after all his son is only a few years older than Reuben. Do you think they’re feeling terrible, as alone and frightened as the rest of us?.”

“If they are they give no indication of it.” Bridie said quietly as she reached for Olivia’s hand, “Mr Downing is a pompous man, he’s shouting the odds that his son was provoked, that the gun was fired by mistake. Hiram Woods has refused to act any further on his behalf, says he’s acted for the Cartwrights since Mr Frobisher left and will act for them now. But the boy is still in the cells. Candy says that he wants him to stay there until his trial.”

“No bail? No freedom?”

“No, Candy doesn’t trust Mr Downing enough. He thinks that if he lets the boy out of his sight, then Mr Downing will send him out of town, somewhere the law can’t get to him.”

Olivia shook her head, “Poor little boy. I wonder if he’s scared.” 

She began to slowly walk round the room again, touching this and that, then finally returning to the bedside, she leaned down and kissed the boys on the Olivia was wiping her eyes when Reuben looked up at her, blinked rapidly several times and then said very quietly “Mom? It hurts.”

Within minutes Paul and Jimmy Chan were in the room, ushering the ladies away and dealing with their young patients wound. Within less than half an hour they were out of the room and with a smile Paul was able to assure Olivia that her son was over the worst.

“He’s still got a way to go, Olivia, but he’s out of danger now.”

Out of danger…Olivia sunk down upon a chair and buried her face in her hands, what more could she say but ‘Thank God’.

Chapter 42

Ben Cartwright pushed open the door to the room where Olivia was sitting with Nathaniel on her lap, cradled within her arms and sleeping contentedly. Propped up by pillows and covered by a thin sheet slept the young boy who had hovered between life and death for all the hours since the shooting incident. At the sound of the door opening Olivia turned, saw her father in law and relaxed, her face beaming a smile of joyful pleasure at seeing him “Oh Ben -” she cried, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

She rose to her feet immediately and met him half way across the room as he was himself striding forwards to take her into his arms, the little infant almost crushed between them in the warmth of their embrace. Ben held her away from him for a moment and looked down at the woman whose eyes were filled once again with tears, gently he brushed them aside “I’m so sorry, Olivia, I’m so sorry not to have been here for you and Reuben.”

“Oh no, don’t be sorry, Ben, who was to know that this was going to happen…”

“But I should have been here especially after having seen the Downings and having a feeling that something could happen, although I never dreamt it could have been this - a child shooting down other children.” he had his arm around her shoulder now and together they walked to Reubens bedside “How is he?”

“Very weak. Jimmy is so good, Ben, he is so thorough in his medical practices and the wound is clean, Paul made sure that there were no greater injuries - he couldn’t have been in better hands. Once they feel he is strong enough they said he can come back home.”

“Poor lad” Ben looked down at the child and recalled the many times he had sat by his sons’ when they were ill or had been injured for some reason or another, he shook his head as he recalled how it was only a few months earlier that he had been seated by Joe’s bedside, willing him to live. “Candy told me what had happened. I came over as soon as I could - I - I wish to heaven I hadn’t left here.”

She shook her head and smiled as though she no longer wanted to hear such things from him, Nathaniel stirred and fluttered his eyelids, yawned delicately so she passed him over “Here, Grandpa, look after him for a moment while I get you some coffee. Bridie has just brought in some freshly made.”

Emotion tightened around Ben’s throat as he looked down at the baby, it seemed to him that he was seeing his own first born son all over again, and he felt guilt touch his heart when he remembered the hardships he had put that infant through after Elizabeth had died. He heaved in a deep breath and shook his head “Olivia, this baby is like looking at Adam when he was this age. Do you know what I did to him? I took him from a home where he would have been secure and well loved, I took him away into a wilderness in a wagon, at times never knowing if there would be food to put into his stomach, or a safe haven in which to rest. I failed him then, and I’ve failed him again now.”

Olivia paused with a cup of coffee in each hand and looked at Ben in surprise “How do you mean, Ben? How have you failed Adam, I doubt very much if he would see it that way whatever it is…”

“My dear, I promised to take care of you and his family while he was away, that was my role in his absence to be these childrens guardian, and what did I do… I went off chasing a stupid romantic notion because of something I found in a book.”

Olivia shook her head in remonstrance and passed him a cup “Drink your coffee, dear, and stop feeling so guilty about things that were out of your control.” she placed her own cup on a table and then took the baby from Ben and placed him in a bassinet close by, then returned to where she had a chair close to Reuben, she picked up her cup and drank a little of the coffee “Ben, life has been hard for you, and no matter what you think now about your decision to leave New England to follow -” she paused wondering just how tactful her words would be but then decided to press on “to follow the dream that you and Elizabeth had, it resulted in shaping Adam into the man he has become, hasn’t it?”

Ben bowed his head and sighed, “I put him through hell, Olivia, it’s a wonder to me that he is such a fine person.”

“You forget just how powerful your love and example were, Ben. Don’t forget what a strong bond you formed between yourselves, and then Hoss…” she smiled and reached out a hand, stretched out over the body of her sleeping son, which Ben held gently in his own. “I would hope that Adam forges just as strong a bond with his sons, Ben.”

Ben nodded, somewhat mollified now, calmed by her reassurances and the way she looked at him with such love. He looked once more at Reuben and again felt guilt well up inside himself, he imagined her grief and her fear, the childs pain and the doctors fight to keep him alive. He bowed his head and gulped down the coffee which he barely tasted due to the misery he felt. 

“Have you heard from Adam at all?”

“No, nothing.” she replied and looked away from him so that he couldn’t see the pain in her eyes, instead she leaned towards her son and stroked back his hair, smiled slowly as he sighed in response to her touch, how light his sleep must be now, she thought, perhaps he would wake up again soon.

Ben said nothing more on the subject, he was sensitive enough to appreciate that she would prefer for it to be set aside for now. He put down the now empty cup and took hold of Reuben’s hand, squeezed it gently, “Reuben, son, it’s grandpa”

The boy sighed deeply, a slight smile drifted across his lips as though deep in his sleep he had heard and was happy in knowing his grandfather was there by his side, just where he should be.
………..

Roy Coffee pushed open the door to his house and paused a moment at the sound of laughter that came from the direction of the best parlour. He frowned when he noticed a mans hat and walking stick on the dresser in the hallway. Scowling slightly he pushed open the door and stood framed within the doorway looking in upon the sight of two women and a man seated around a table laden with refreshments.

“Am I intruding?” 

His voice quelled the hilarity immediately, Rachel Darrow rose immediately to her feet and simpered “Oh Roy, I didn’t expect you home today.”

“Obviously.” Roy muttered and looked over at Mrs Lenox “’Good day to you, Hortense.”

Mrs Lenox nodded and smiled, while she looked uncomfortably over to Rachel who was looking at the gentleman who was getting to his feet now and turning to meet Roy. He held out his hand “Alfred Stone, Mr Coffee. A pleasure to meet you.”

Roy narrowed his eyes and looked the other man over carefully even as he accepted the proffered hand and shook it. He saw a stocky florid faced man, greying hair was curling from the crown of his head which was bald, his eyes were blue and unsmiling. It seemed to Roy that the man was weighing him up as carefully as he was doing likewise to him, 

“New in town?” Roy said as he sat down in his usual chair which Hortense had quickly vacated for him.

“Yes, I moved here just about ten days ago.” Alfred replied and pulled a gold watch from his vest pocket, “Dear me, is that the time? I should really be going.”

“You have work hereabouts?” Roy asked and heard his sister say “Roy!” in her sharp little voice, admonishing him for his lack of courtesy.

“No, I’m retired. I worked in Pennsylvania as supervisor in a large mining corporation.” Alfred replied in tones that indicated amusement rather than offence, he smiled over at the ladies and thanked them both for their company. “It’s good to have made your acquaintance, Mr Coffee.” 

Roy stood up and nodded as Rachel’s guest made his way to the door where he paused and turned “I believe you were the sheriff hereabouts for a while?”

“Yes, that’s right, I was.”

“Yes, good, that’s what Rachel told me … so you are also retired?”

Roy nodded and for a moment wished that he could have said quite honestly that no, he wasn’t retired, he was still working in the capacity as sheriff of Virginia City and had a feeling, a rather sinking feeling, that Mr Alfred Stone knew that fact very well.

Rachel bustled out after her guest and Roy could hear her twittering on about something before the door closed. When she returned Hortense Lenox was getting her things together to leave while Roy was seated, and drinking his coffee with a thoughtful expression on his face.

…………

Sheriff Canaday looked coldly at the two men who sat opposite him in the office. Downing was staring back at him with cold blank eyes and a hot flushed look around his fat face while the other man, the lawyer employed by Downing, looked exasperated.

“Look, sheriff, it just isn’t right that you keep a child locked up in your cells. You have to accept bail for him.” Jacob Whiley insisted.

“There’s no ‘have to’ about it, Mr Whiley.” Candy replied, “There’s no legal document drawn up to release the boy back into the custody of his parents, and no bail has been set.”

Whiley frowned “I was given to understand that Mr Hiram Woods had set bail for $5000”

“That was before he was made aware of the full extent of what had happened and who exactly had been involved. Also at the time only one child had died at Leslie’s hands, now there are two.” Candy stood up, very tall and dark as he towered over the other two men, “Now then, there’s to be no further argument on the matter. The boy stays put where he is..” he looked at Mr Downing “He’s fed well, he’s warm, and I make sure that he isn’t getting any abuse or ill treatment from anyone else who has to be in the cells alongside his …”

“Sheriff, I insist…” Downings voice was a droning wheeze, emotion, the heat and his weight were telling on him, he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe around his neck. “I insist that you let my son come home on bail. Mr Whiley,” he turned to Jacob, “surely you can draw up the necessary papers? Set bail for whatever sum you feel is reasonable, I’ll pay it, I’ll double it .. Just let my boy come home.”

“Mr Whiley,” Candy said quietly, “Please take your client out of my office before he ends up sharing his sons cell with him.”

“On what charge?” Whiley said immediately.

“Public affray, wasting my time, anything else I can think of to add to the list…” Candy snapped, and his blue eyes hardened as he stared at the two men who looked at one another and turned to leave the office, Downing paused for a moment and gave Candy a long cold glare, a threat as obvious as words. Whiley said and noticed nothing but was heading for the door.

In his cell Leslie Downing ate a candy bar and sprawled out on the cot with a book he enjoyed reading. By his side was a box full of candies and cookies, some of his favourite toys , a reminder if ever there was one, that he was after all, still a child. He had heard some of the discussion from the other room but it didn’t matter to him. In some ways he quite enjoyed his life in the cell. He was away from school, away from an interfering nagging mother, an empty headed sister and a domineering father. He enjoyed the company of the drunks who were the usual inhabitants of the other cells, he found them amusing and funny, they made him laugh when they sang their crude songs or hurled insults at one another. It was all part of life’s education and he just lapped it up. In an odd way, Leslie Downing felt he was one of life’s winners! For some reason, no one seemed able to convince him otherwise, nor get him to realise the seriousness of the charges to be brought against him.

 

Chapter 43

The sight of two white men standing knee deep in the river washing their clothes was a cause of great amusement with the women and children in the village. They crowded around to watch as though they had never seen a naked man in their lives before and certainly they had never seen any white man like this for Scolley and his companions had always kept themselves much to themselves. 

Life on board ship removed many of life’s niceties and both Jotham and Adam were only too glad to get the chance to remove the layers of dirt and sweat that had built up during their trek, as well as take the opportunity to wash their shirts and pants which were stiff with the salt of their sweat. 

It wasn’t long before the women and children were in the river with them, the mothers bathing their children, older children swimming and playing and even daring to swim close to the white men to splash them playfully, only to be splashed back and laughingly swimming away.

Jefferson observed the scene from a distance and then with a sigh turned to Scolley who was standing by his side “I’m sorry I hadn’t told you before, Michael. I should have done.”

“Perhaps. What does it matter anyway, you’ve enjoyed the past years discoveries with me, haven’t you? I certainly have -” Scolley smiled and then sighed as he turned aside and began to stroll slowly to the village “You don’t have to go with them you know. I can make sure that they don’t get to leave the village, and you could stay here a free man.”

“But not an innocent one, and if you are proposing what I think you are, Micheal then I would be doubly condemned. No, it won’t do, I will have to go with them., there is more at stake here than this, believe it or not.” 

“Ah, a woman.”

“Yes, a woman. I left her to carry the burden of that death, I should never have done that, it’s only right and just that I go back and face the consequences of my actions.”

Scolley frowned “But you didn’t kill him.”

“That will be for a jury to decide. I certainly had no premeditated plan to kill him, nor would I ever had done so, but -” he shrugged “There was a knife, a struggle, and he was killed, and I wasn’t.” 

“As a dear friend of mine recently wrote in one of his stories “The law, dear sir, is an ass.”” Scolley sighed and put his arm around his friends shoulders “Whether American law or English, I completely agree with him.”

“I’ve made up my mind to go back with them, Michael. Don’t do anything that will prevent that, will you?”

“If that is what you have decided, of your own free will, then so be it.” Michael replied and without another word parted from him and strode hurriedly away towards a group of men who had returned from hunting wild pig.

Jotham ducked beneath the water for another time and came up with a splash, dragged water from his eyes with both hands and then shook his head “That’s the cleanest I’ve felt in a long time. Thank goodness for it,” he ran his hand over his head and shook his head again “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Adam replied as he pulled on his wet shirt over his wet body, he began to walk towards the beach, nodding and smiling at the women and the children who were laughing and smiling at him as he passed “The sooner we leave the better, I don’t want Jefferson to start thinking too deeply on the matter and deciding to stay here.”

“Do you believe him. I mean, what he told you about the incident? Do you think he may be covering for the wife?”

“If there were any doubt about that, Jotham, you wouldn’t be here with a warrant for his arrest.” Adam smiled over at the younger man who laughed and nodded in agreement. “No, he’s concerned for the woman, and he’s quite sincere in what he’s said. I believe him.”

“It’s strange how it took all that time for the authorities to decide to look further into the matter of Jefferson’s death and then decide it was murder.”

Adam shrugged “It happens. I remember a time when a man cold bloodedly murdered his whole family. He lived ten years thinking he was safe from any accusation of murder, but he didn’t realise there had been a witness.”

Jothan looked at Adam with a frown “So why didn’t the witness come forward at the time?”

“The significance of what he’d seen hadn’t meant anything at the time, then one day it all fell into place, he saw something, heard something else and knew that he needed to speak up, and that was the end of a tyrants rule of terror. Unlike Professor Jefferson who is honest and quite unlike his brother.”

“Who was a senator, of course.”

“Of course.” they shared a grin and were fully clothed by the time they arrived at their hut where they found Yates huddled in the corner, looking terrified with his teeth chattering.

Jotham had never liked Yates, the man had been a hindrance and a problem from the moment they had met up with him at the Mendes store, now seeing him as he was Jotham took the opportunity to tease him a little until Yates blurted out that he’d be very grateful if he’d not do so as he had just seen something pretty awful.

Adam frowned and smiled “Pretty awful, Yates?”

“Yes, sir. No other way to describe it.”

“Well, just how awful is pretty awful?” Jotham laughed as he began to pull on his boots.

“You can laugh all you likes,” Yates said with a shiver, “But I don’t think I’ll be sleeping comfortable or laughing at anything for the rest of my natural!” he brushed aside some mosquitoes and wiped sweat from his brow “I was walking about and found I was lost. I saw some of those Indians and followed them, and that’s when I saw - I saw -”

“You saw?” Jotham said jocularly and with a wink at Adam.

“I saw what they do to their prisoners. It’s not nice I can tell you that.” Yates curled himself up, buried his head in between his knees and put his hands over his ears.

Adam and Jotham lost their smiles along with their hilarity, Adam shook his head and approached the man, “It’s best to try and put it out of your mind, Yates. This is an entirely different culture, a different way of life. It’s a pity you had to see what you did, but how you feel about it won’t change anything.”

“You didn’t see -” Yates stammered.

“No, but I’ve seen similar sights no doubt, the Indians I’ve known didn’t treat their prisoners very kindly either.”

“We are leaving soon, aren’t we?” Yates whispered looking around him as though at anytime he would be hauled away to join with the prisoners he had seen.

“In the morning.” Jotham assured him and Adam nodded and confirmed that the trek home would start at daybreak.

Yates refused to go out with them to eat with the people who had made a festival meal as it was the last one they would share with Howard Jefferson whom they treasured as a friend. The pigs they had caught had been slaughtered, gutted and filled with sweet vegetables and then wrapped in fragrant leaves before being placed in a pit on top of hot charcoal then covered over and left until the meal began.

Scolley smoked his pipe throughout the evening and watched as villagers and guests ate and shared the evening together. Jefferson never left his side, as scientists in their own particular fields they had worked together like brothers, and it was in that way that they wished to spend their last hours.

It was as the evening was drawing to a close that there was a commotion which drew the attention of the two Americans, as well as Jefferson and Scolley. The villagers gradually grew silent and turned to see what was happening while Adam and Jotham were on their feet at the sight of Yates being dragged from the hut by several natives. His screams for help had both seamen hurrying towards the group with Scolley and Jefferson close behind them.

It was Scolley who demanded what was happening and why were they treating a guest in such a manner for it was almost a sacred duty to these people to respect visitors and provide hospitality to them. A young man stepped forward, like most of his people he was short in stature but wiry in frame, his black hair was matted by the red clay and formed a stiff helmet appearance around his skull, the red clay covered the top half of his face so that his eyes darted back and forth as though through a red mask. He spoke hurriedly, angrily, the dark eyes glared at Adam and Jotham, his blow pipe he thumped several times on the ground as though to emphasise his words.

Scolley listened, bowed his head and frowned before he turned to Adam “They say Yates broke a taboo. It’s sacred to them, some things we have no right to trespass upon and I’m afraid that Yates did so.”

Adam rounded his shoulders and straightened his back immediately “Then explain to them that he acted in ignorance. Without knowledge of their ways. Tell them we will take him far away, he won’t disturb them again.”

He knew it was a forlorn chance for his own knowledge of other tribes with their taboo’s and rituals left him with that realisation of hopelessness. Indians many thousands of miles away in the swamplands of Florida, and others on the plains of Montana and Dakota held some of their taboo’s so sacred that a stranger seeing them would have to be killed in order for their blood to prevent the evil that the tribe would fear about to befall them.

Scolley shook his head “You’re asking a lot, Captain. If you push for his freedom you risk your own lives. These people can be very cruel when they choose to be, and I don’t believe that you and your friend here will get out of here alive if you persist in getting Yates freed.”

Jefferson put his hand on Adams arm “They have their ways of punishing their enemies, Yates saw things he had no right to see…”

“He didn’t realise that …” Jotham insisted at which Yates cried out “Help me, Captain, don’t let them take me away to that place.”

Adam put his hand to his hip and then realised his gun was still in the hut with his other belongings, he looked at Jotham who shook his head, then he looked at Jefferson “I can’t let him be taken away to be killed, he’s innocent of doing anything wrong.”

“Not as far as these people are concerned.” Scolley said and after a nod of the head as though that was his final word he turned away and returned to where the villagers had began feasting again.

“Captain Cartwright,” Yates cried with his eyes nearly popping out of his head “Please..please help me.”

Jefferson spoke now to the young man, his voice was pleasingly gentle as though he was talking to a child and the young man listened with a patience that spoke a lot for his maturity. “What did you say?” Adam asked.

“I suggested that they take me instead.” Jefferson said quietly, “After all, if I go to America they’ll hang me. What difference if I die now or then.”

“A lot of difference, Jefferson.” Jotham said immediately, “Apart from which you claim to be innocent of any crime, so why anticipate the rope for nothing?”

Howard sighed deeply and shrugged, he looked at Adam who felt helpless as he looked from Yates to Howard, “What will they do with him?”

“I don’t know.” Jefferson said honestly, “It is the one thing we accepted as none of our business.”

Jotham and Adam stepped back a few paces with Howard walking with them, it was an intolerable situation and all three men were struggling to find some solution while Yates was practically fainting out of fear. Adam asked Jefferson what would happen if they attempted a rescue at which Jefferson laughed “Do you know how accurate these men are with their blowpipes? Those poison darts come out of nowhere, are 100% accurate and lethal. You’d be dead before you got your gun out of your holster.” 

“Isn’t there anything we can bargain with, apart from your life?” Adam then said and Howard frowned “I’m afraid this young man didn’t want to take me in part exchange, Captain. He treasures my friendship too much.”

“Then what else is there ?” Jotham whispered noticing that the men were now getting restless and wanting to depart with their victim a limp figure of a man to be dragged away.

Scolley now re-appeared with an elderly man with him, he looked at Adam and then at Jotham before talking to the young Indian who listened intently before speaking, then he turned to Adam, “I spoke to the elder here, and he suggested a solution that may work.”

“What is it?” Jothan snapped abruptly while in the background Yates was making weird gagging noises as though he were about to vomit.

“They like to gamble.” Scolley said and raised his eyebrows, “If you would be prepared to fight for him, and win ..” he shrugged “Winner takes all.”

“And if we lose?” Jotham replied.

“Well, as it’s a fight to the death, you’ll die. And Yates will be taken away to face whatever punishment fit’s the crime.”

Jotham and Adam looked at one another, Adam cleared his throat “Isn’t there anything else you can think of?”

“You can’t bribe them, they have no concept of money, treasure or anything like that; you can’t buy Yates back for the same reason. This is a sacred thing to them. A broken taboo.”

Jotham frowned and shrugged “Seems to me rather unfair, a fight to the death … that means two lives instead of one.”

“That’s the gamble.” Scolley said quietly and looked steadily at them both.

Jefferson stepped forward now with an anxious look on his face “I would volunteer my services, but I’m afraid my talents were in my brains, not my fists, or feet.”

Adam and Jotham stood and said nothing. A light breeze came and stirred the leaves of the trees, mosquitoes buzzed about their faces and from the village came the sound of laughter and merriment as the people continued to enjoy their feast.

 

Chapter 44

It was obvious from the gleam in the young mans eyes and the smile that flashed across his mouth that the thought of a fight with one of the Americans suited him very well. No matter how stoic his culture and tribe he was young and his blood ran hot at any thought of violence. He spoke quickly to Scolley who nodded and turned to Adam and Jotham with a slight embarrassment

“He is willing to fight, he looks forward to the challenge.”

Jefferson made a movement as though to intervene but Adam stopped him by a movement of his hand, before turning to Jotham “Well, Jotham, whatever happens as a result of this fight between him and myself -”

“No, Commodore.” Jotham shook his head and smiled as he addressed Adam in the manner he had done, “No, it is for me to take him on, not you.” and when he saw the look in Adam’s eyes and the determination in his face, Jotham seized hold of Adam by the arm “Look, sir, you can’t fight him.”

“Jotham, as your superior officer -”

“Please, hear me out, sir, and off the record -”

Adam inclined his head and looked at the younger man earnestly. The likeness to Daniel O’Brien had never been more clear as it was at that moment, for it was obvious that Jothams mind was made up and he wouldn’t take any order from Adam to the contrary.

“When Daniel was killed last year, well, he was the last of my family. I have no wife, no children, no aged parents to mourn my passing should I die -” he shook his head when Adam opened his mouth to protest “No one sir, but my friends so please let me do this now?”

“How can I? We have our orders, Jotham?”

“Yes, and I have carried out mine, sir. Professor Jefferson has been arrested. Your orders were to take him back to America, if I understand correctly?” his eyes twinkled as he spoke and he glanced over to the group of Indians who were also consulting among themselves, “Think of who you are leaving behind should anything happen to you? It’s bad enough that this wretched jungle could kill us by disease or something else, but in an unfair and unmatched fight over Yates?” 

Both men now looked over at the hapless Englishman who was cowering close by and barely had the strength now to stand “I couldn’t bear to have to go to your wife and to tell her that the children were now fatherless, or to your father and brothers … you have far too much to lose, sir. I have nothing in comparison.”

Adam shook his head and glanced over at Yates once again, then at the Indians who were laughing among themselves as though they saw it all as a fine joke. Scolley approached now and put a hand on Adams shoulder “I think Morton is right, Adam. Don’t throw your life away needlessly.”

Adam shook his head “It’s my responsibility as his commanding officer to ensure his safety, Professor Scolley. Therefore -”

“No,” Yates stepped forward now, he shook his head “No, there ain’t no point in you both arguing the toss about a fight. I’ll go along with them, after all, I have even less to lose than either of you.”

“Your life means so little, Mr. Yates?” Scolley asked sadly

Yates shrugged and sighed “My life means a great deal to me, sir, but it won’t be worth a penny if I have to live it knowing one of these gents died on my behalf.”

Adam smiled “You don’t seem to understand, Mr Yates. If whoever fights and loses, will mean your life as well.”

“Blimey, I didn’t realise that…” Yates sighed heavily, “Well, in that case, you might as well just hand me over right here and now. I‘ve always lived my life by the law, sir, and even though I don‘t understand what these laws are here, seems like I broke ‘em so I should be the one who takes the punishment.”

Scolley smiled “That’s very commendable of you, Yates, but I think our young friends have decided they would prefer to fight over you than allow you to go like a lamb to the slaughter.

Jotham again turned to Adam, “Allow me, sir?”

For a moment Adams resolution to fight remained strong but then he thought of Olivia and in doing so, he wavered and knew only too well how news of his death would affect her. He couldn’t bear to think further than that upon the matter but looked at Jotham and then at the young Indian “Do you think you can take him, Jotham? These people don’t fight in the way you may expect, it won’t be according to any rules you know about.”

“I understand, sir.” Jotham smiled and nodded, then saluted his commanding officer with some bravado, although inwardly he was feeling far from brave.

Adam brushed his hand over his face in a familiar gesture of anxiety and one his family would have recognised of old. Scolley was already discussing the matter with the youth and the elders of the tribe who had come up to see what was happening. There was a lot of nodding of heads and gesturing before they left to lead the way to a clearing which, from the amount of hard pressed ground was evidence of where the young men practised their ‘games’.

Adam looked again at Jotham “Is there nothing I can say to change your mind? If I were to order you -?”

Jotham smiled “Just think of your wife, sir, she’s beautiful and so are your children.”

Adam said nothing to that, throughout the days of this assignment he had put Olivia and his children to the back of his mind because the thought of them and what he would do if anything happened to them, or to him, weakened his resolve to carry out his orders. If he had been a man who would cut and run at the thought of his loved ones then he would have done so long before now.

But it was the course of wisdom to follow along with Jotham. He still had his assignment to fulfill, and more than anything he wanted to get home to Olivia, to see her and his children again. He stepped back as Jotham removed his shirt and tossed it to the ground before walking to the compound to face his opponent.

The villagers had left their festivities and feasting to come now to watch the fight. It saddened Adam to look at the faces of the young gentle mothers and the children who had played only hours earlier in the river. Their primitive savagery was now evident upon their features as they crowded forward as eager to watch what was about to unfold as crowds once watched bear baiting long ago.

…………..

Bridie tapped gently on the door and stepped inside the room, she carried Nathaniel in her arms as she approached Olivia and the little boy who slept in his own bed now. The baby saw his mother and stretched out his arms towards her, a smile on his face and his new tooth gleaming. “He’s been so good, Olivia, but he needs his feed.” Bridie said as she place him in Olivia’s arms, “How is Reuben?”

“As you see him.” Olivia replied and glanced towards the boy who slept with the wooden horse clasped in his hands. “He won’t let go of the horse David carved him last year. He can’t understand what happened, why Leslie would shoot them down as he did.”

“It’s hard enough for us to understand, Olivia, how could we expect a child to do better than us.”

Olivia nodded and unbuttoned her dress in order to feed her baby, “Were the funerals today?”

“Yes. I came straight here from the cemetery.”

“I can’t stop thinking of those poor families. Evelyn Watts is so frail, and her husband - how on earth will he be able to carry on without his little boy? I daresay the Watsons are heart broken as well.”

“It was hard for them all. Evelyn collapsed at the graveside and we had to help her as best we could. There were not many with dry eyes during the service and burials, that’s for sure. I was glad that they chose to have the lads buried at the same time, it seemed appropriate somehow.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.” Olivia looked down at the baby and then across to Reuben whose nervous fingers were clutching and unclutching at the little carved horse, “What about the boy, the one who - who was responsible?”

“Candy said he shows no remorse at all. Mr Downing is the same, thankfully he and his wife did not come to the service. It would have been hypocritical of them had they done so.”

There was another gentle tap on the door and Ben stepped into the room, looked quickly at them both and gave them his gentle smile. He raised his hand in which he held some letters “ I was given these for you, Olivia.”

She smiled her thanks and watched as he placed them on the bureau by the door. A buff coloured larger than usual envelope caught her attention and she asked Ben if he had any idea who it was from, Ben sighed “It’s for Adam, from the Admiralty.”

Olivia’s lips tightened and she turned her head away. Each one of them thought the same, how could they assign him another posting when he hadn’t yet returned from the one he was on. She bowed her head and watched as Nathaniel began to slip into a light slumber, then she roused herself and looked over at Ben “Thank you, Ben.”

Her father in law nodded and smiled while Bridie got to her feet and declared that she would go and make them something to eat, something that would cheer them all up, except they all knew the only thing that could do that was if Adam Cartwright were to walk into the room right there and then.
………..

Candy looked over at Roy and shook his head “So you don’t know anything about him at all, huh?”

“Nothing. He looks familiar, and I had an idea that I knew why but at the same time it’s been ten years and even after ten years I’d have thought I’d have known him right away. No one changes that much in ten years, do they?”

“If you’re talking about Cochrane, then no, I wouldn’t have thought so.” Candy replied and stroked his chin as he thought over the matter “Mind you he’s been in prison for all those years…”

“Hummm, this Alfred Stone claims to have been working in Pennsylvania until recently he’s as tanned as brown as leather. No man whose been in prison ten years carries a tan on him.”

“True enough.” Candy agreed, knowing from experience the pallor that men imprisoned for that long usually have about them. “Have you contacted any of the references he gave you?”

“Waiting for some response,” Roy replied as he perched on the edge of the desk, “But I can’t get much out of him, Rachel hovers like a vulture and clucks like a hen every time I ask a dang simple question, then when he goes she snaps at me like an old cat about prying and probing and making her friend feel uncomfortable.”

“Well, uncomfortable or not, he keeps coming back for more.” Candy grinned at the old man who sighed heavily and nodded in agreement, “I’m sorry there isn’t anything more I can do to help you, Roy. I’ll do what I can but there’s only so much the law can do before it has to respect a mans individual right to privacy.”

Roy shrugged and was about to speak when the door opened and Downing came in carrying a paper bag of candy for his son. The three men nodded acknowledgment of each other and Downing ambled on to where his son lounged in his cell. Roy and Candy looked at one another and shook their heads before Roy took his leave, making way for Dodds to come and take on his duties.

Mr Downing handed over the paper bag to his son and watched the boy as the bag was opened and the close set eyes lit up at the sight of the goodies it contained “Thanks, Pa.”

“They feeding you alright? Your Ma’s worried that they ain’t feeding you proper.”

“Sure, the grubs good, I get to eat second portions too if I want.”

The bag rustled as Leslie’s plump hand rummaged about inside and he popped a humbug into his mouth. Downing watched as his son chomped on the candy, he wondered what was going to happen at the trial, he had lined up excuses for his sons conduct but his own lawyer had knocked them down one by one. He still couldn’t believe that his son had killed two boys and seriously injured another. He stared so hard at Leslie that the boy became uncomfortable “Whats wrong, Pa?”

“I don’t know. I was wondering that myself. What’s wrong with you, my own son, to go and get that gun and shoot those boys like you did.”

“I didn’t mean to shoot thm,” Leslie said looking at his father in surprise, “I didn’t know the gun was loaded.”

Downing swallowed, the boy had told the lies so often he was believing them himself, he bowed his head and felt shame for the first time in his life. “You must have known.”

Leslie said nothing to that, he couldn’t even remember now it seemed so long ago. He shrugged “Well, ain’t much I can do about it now. It’s happened and that’s all there is to say about it, aint that right, Pa?”

Downing shivered, how often had he said that to his family whenever something had happened in the past, so many excuses, so many lies. He knew the shame he felt for his son was a mere reflection of the self disgust he felt ..he turned away and ignored his son’s voice as he called after him. He just couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him, even though bars separated them.

He walked out of the building without saying a word, leaving Candy and Dodds looking after him in surprise at his silence.

Chapter 45

Several times during the fight Adam had risen from his seat and stepped forward to go to his fellow officers defence but had to be pulled back by Scolley and Jefferson. Many a time he had to close his eyes, bow his head and clench his fists to control the feelings that were raging within himself at the scene of such a bloody fight. Yates was unable to handle it and kept his eyes shut all the time.

Time and again Jotham was flung around the small ‘arena’ like a rag doll, only to pick himself up and stagger back into the fray. At times it seemed the wiry little Indian was toying with him, at other times Jotham seemed to have the upper hand and push the man back. 

There were no breaks just a consistent and constant pounding of flesh. No weapons were used, only hands and feet, and in the case of the Indian his teeth as well. Head butting, kick fighting, everything that a body could use as an offensive or defensive weapon was utilised to the full. The sound of their grunts and groans, their wheezing breath became louder, more constant as the fight wore on.

Yet, at the end, when it came it was so swift and in Adam’s eyes, almost ironical. The Marquis of Queensbury rules on boxing came to the fore as Jotham staggered to his feet, the younger man threw himself at him. Jotham adopted the stance of a good pugilist and clenched his fists, lowered his head and delivered an uppercut to the jaw that sent the Indian spinning, then Jotham waded in with two blows to the upper torso before his opponent had a chance to regain his balance. The final blow brought the boy down with a crash 

Jefferson and Scolley both stood up with a cheer, involuntary though it was while Adam just swallowed hard and slowly rose to his feet. The villagers were silent, not a murmur came from them as they watched and waited for the final coup de grace. Adam turned to observe the Elder who stepped forward with a machete in his hand which he held out to Jotham and pointed to the youth still struggling to regain his senses.

Jotham pushed the machete away, shook his head and turned to walk back to where Adam was standing. Scolley sighed and shook his head “It’s a fight to the death, Captain. Your man has to kill the boy for the fight to be finished.”

Adam looked at Scolley and then over at Jotham “It is finished. Get them to realise that, we can’t just kill an unarmed man when he’s down.”

“They won’t accept that.” Jefferson murmured now and looked over at the Older man who was obviously insisting on the fight being finished “The lad’s been humiliated by his defeat. They believe that he won’t gain whatever is after death, the full glory of his immortality, if he remains with this stain on his honour.”

Adam could only shake his head and glance over at the villagers who were now getting restive. Young men were leaning on their blow pipes and lances, some were fingering their machetes. The atmosphere in the camp was decidedly tense and getting more unpleasant as the minutes ticked by… Jotham had his hand on the machete and Adam could see he was trying to explain that it was dishonourable for him to kill an unarmed man. The youth was struggling to get to his feet, his hand was resting on his loin cloth and something gleamed momentarily between his fingers, it was Yates who yelled out a warning to Jotham who turned in time to see the small pointed flint spinning towards him. 

Adam launched himself forwards, his feet spurted up dust as they thrust against the earth in order to reach his friend before the missive could reach its destination. Both men crashed to the ground together and the weapon spun on its course to strike into the shoulder of the older man who had stood there as though in disbelief at the youths lack of integrity.

The villagers gave a howl, they moved forwards in one spontaneous wave, an undulating mass of human flesh that swept the young man away beneath it. Adam and Jotham were left to get to their feet in the middle of a dust cloud as the villagers meted out their anger upon the victim that had only hours earlier been an admired stalwart of their group.

“What will happen to him?” Adam asked as he watched what seemed a human tide surge into the jungle.

“It’s already happened.” Jefferson said slowly, then turned to Jotham “Are you alright? Do you feel well enough for travelling?”

Jotham picked up his shirt and wiped the blood from his face and body, he nodded, unable to speak through a swollen mouth, he spat out fragments of tooth and nodded again at Adam’s enquiring look of concern.

Scolley shook his head and cursed beneath his breath, “This is a bad turn out, Captain Cartwright. Your man did good there’s no doubt about that, but he should have killed the boy when he had the chance. The people here will think over the matter of the boys breaking the rules as he did, they’ll get to thinking that had you dealt the blow he would have had a wonderful after life, but you destroyed his chances of that by refusing to follow through when you had the chance.”

“I couldn’t kill him so cold bloodedly. Had I seen that he had a weapon hidden on him then that would have made it easier .” Jotham said amidst grunts as he struggled to get his shirt over his head.

“It may be best if we leave now. The sooner the better.” Jefferson muttered, “I’ll go and collect my belongings and meet you at your hut in ten minutes.”

Adam nodded and placed a hand on Jotham’s shoulder “Are you sure you can manage this, Jotham?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You did well.” Adam allowed a faint smile to his lips and his brown eyes twinkled, “Fancy, the Marquis of Queensbury would have been proud of you.”

“That’s what I thought, sir. I was running out of resources …” Jotham wiped his face again with his shirt tail and groaned at the pain in his ribs, but raised a hand to prevent Adam expressing his concern “It’s alright, sir, but I sure could use a cup of coffee right now, with a dash of whiskey in it.”

Yates came forward rubbing his wrists and looking scared witless “I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t got lost this would never have happened.”

Jotham nodded but couldn’t look at him, while Adam led the way to their hut and wished to goodness that Yates had been left behind on this trek long ago.

Within ten minutes and as good as his word Jefferson was at their hut, there was total silence around them and Scolley was no where to be seen. Without a word the four men collected their packs and hurriedly walked into the darkness of the jungle ahead of them.

“What will happen to Scolley?” Adam whispered to Jefferson who replied that the man knew how to care for himself, the natives viewed him almost as a supernatural being, they wouldn’t harm him. Adam said nothing to that, he didn’t want to disillusion Howard Jefferson by mentioning the number of times he had heard of similar ’supernatural’ beings who had suddenly become very human and upon the tribes disillusionment had come swift retribution. It seemed as if the words of wise King Solomon were true even here, there really was nothing new under the sun.

Jotham was weaker than he had thought, or perhaps he had just overestimated his powers for he was soon flagging and Yates and Adam had to support him as they made their way through the darkening jungle. It was a furtive flight with each man there hopefully making as little noise as possible. Every so often Adam would strike a match around which they would huddle in order to prevent the light being seen, feeble though it was, but by this method he was able to check his compass and get his bearings before they could set off again.

Jefferson gave Jotham something to chew on and rubbed some plant leaves into the worst of the injuries he had sustained. When Jotham commented that he was already feeling relief from pain Jefferson nodded and acknowledged the fact that Sokolovich would be pleased to know that, it had been part of his research, lost now to humanity of course.

They finally reached a point of no return, a time when Jotham’s legs were collapsing from under him, when even Adam and Jefferson had to give in to nature and say, enough is enough. They hid themselves under the leaves of the trees and vines that grew so abundantly and fell asleep to the sound of the waterfall thundering so close that they could feel the ground trembling. To Adam that indicated they were on the right track, and with that thought in mind he left himself to the mercies of Someone greater than himself to ensure their safe delivery in the morning.


Jotham’s condition had worsened overnight, the sleep had refreshed him but the pain of his injuries were disabling. Jefferson gave him the last of Sokolovich’s store of plants to chew on and after drinking clear water from a nearby stream they moved on towards the waterfall.

What little sky could be seen was glowing pink and orange as they headed onwards with the thundering of the falls ever increasing. They were, all four of them, deep in thought when Yates gave a low curse and stopped in his tracks. The other three men turned to see what had happened or observe what he had seen and then wished that they hadn’t bothered as the scene of the fight that had taken place not so long before was now displayed in flagrant horror before their eyes.

Adam assisted Jotham in sitting down upon some rocks and insisted that he drank some water. Jefferson stood staring at the scene as though he had never seen such a thing in his life before, then he retched and had to rush to a bush to vomit. Yates had sunk down upon an old tree stump with his face buried in his hands. “I wish I had never come to this blooming place.” he moaned.

“That’s enough,” Adam said sharply, “Jotham, we need to move on. Professor - when you’re ready …”

The alligators waddling around the remains of the corpses were bloated and full, they blinked their cold staring eyes uncaring of any who walked past them. Now and then there was the flick of a tail, gaping jaws stretched in a yawn, but mostly they slept in total repletion from their feasting.


The clearing by the waterfall was refreshing, not only in smells and air and light, but by its beauty and crashing continuous power of sound. Each man there raised their face to the spray that soaked through their faces and clothes, each felt that relief as of stepping from a nightmare into what promised something better at last.

Adam led the way along which they had come all those days earlier, as he walked he looked about him for a sight of their guide and companion, Qu’an, and it wasn’t until mid-day that he stepped out of the wilderness and into their path. He nodded as though everything had gone according to plan, and Adam smiled and nodded in return. Then Qu’an turned and took the lead for the journey back to the boats.

Jefferson caught up to walk along with Adam while Yates generously gave his assistance to Jotham who was suffering considerably from the injuries. Yates, feeling ever more responsible for these, was more than willing to help as much as he could, showing a willingness of spirit that had been sorely lacking until then. Adam continued to follow Qu’an with Jefferson toiling beside him. It was Jefferson who spoke first “I hadn’t seen that kind of carnage before…”

“It wasn’t a pretty sight.” Adam admitted with a sigh and slight grimace.

“Its odd how you can read about things without really capturing the reality.”

Adam nodded and said that he supposed that was true. Jefferson pursed his lips a little before saying that he and Scolley had been so caught up with the beauty of their findings, the history of a people so long forgotten that the nature of their ‘hosts’ had been mostly ignored, accepted yes, but ignored never the less.

Adam smiled slowly “You never want to grab hold of the tail of a sidewinder, Professor. Its liable to turn and bite!”

“Yes. Yes. Of course, you’re right.”

“The alligators - they made it look worse than it would have been.” Adam observed reassuringly.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“And there are the other predators as well, you can’t blame your friends for everything you saw there.”

“Thank goodness.”

They plodded on in silence for a while before Jefferson approached the subject of Adam and Jothams assignment “Did you really think that you were being sent to look for diamonds and gold mines? “ and grinned rather wryly as he spoke.

Adam smiled slowly, his eyes narrowed and he didn’t look at Jefferson as he answered that no, they both knew exactly what they were assigned to do. Jotham to arrest Jefferson and he himself to take him back to America. Others spoke about diamonds and gold and even lost Spanish cities but they had allowed them to continue thinking what they liked, the main thing had been to complete their assignment. It had been, he explained, no one else’s business and they had been warned to mention it to no-one, they hadn’t even discussed it between themselves in case of being overheard.

“I hardly think I merit that much secrecy and attention.” Jefferson gave a slight smirk, a little shrug, “After all, it was an accidental death.”

“Of a senator, Professor. Your brother was involved in highly classified procedures, his death came at an unfortunate time.”

“He was - he was an evil man, Captain.”

“I don’t know that, Professor. I know nothing about him and it isn’t for me to make judgements. I only know that time passed after his death and certain things were revealed during the course of time to confirm that it was murder. Mrs Jefferson and yourself were implicated. It became necessary to locate you and bring you home.”

“Matilda wouldn’t hurt anyone, she was a loyal wife.” 

Adam nodded and then looked thoughtfully at Jefferson “And she’s been a loyal friend as well - to you.”

Chapter 46

The walking through the mass of tangled vines and undergrowth, the vast canopy of trees shielding them from the light of day and locking in the heat so that the humidity levels soared, did nothing to ease Jotham’s pains. They stopped whenever possible to bathe his wounds and help him get his breath, although he never complained and made every attempt to keep up the pace set by Qu’an.

The scream of a jaguar tore at their nerves as did the constant mosquitoes that attacked their naked flesh despite the salve that Qu’an had given them. Anaconda’s coiled around the boughs of vine covered trees, ants scurried beneath their feet and other insects and snakes slithered away to avoid them.

Apart from these natural horrors was the constant fear that the villagers they had left behind had metaphorically speaking licked their wounds and decided to hunt them down. Secret silent stealthy figures merging in the shadows of a world they knew so well, about which the four white men knew and understood so little. Their ears were constantly listening for the sound of footsteps, humans padding their way over the dead growth of the pantanol, threading their way through the vines and thick woodland. Their heads throbbed in the effort to hear their approach in order to protect themselves as best they could from those poison darts that could kill within seconds of touching their bodies.

Qu’an was stoic, he never faltered in leading the way nor did he hassle them to hurry when they stopped. Not one of them spoke now preferring to keep as quiet as possible in order to hear the least sound that would warn them of an attack.

When Qu’an stopped and indicated that they could sleep, they did so gratefully. Food was quickly eaten, washed down by what water they still possessed. Jotham slept immediately, followed quickly by Yates and then Jefferson. Adam and Qu’an remained awake, the American with his pistol in his hand and the Indian with his lance by his side.

Monkeys chattered and grew silent. A large cat padded past them, paused and opened its jaws in a hiss and growl before continuing onwards. Jotham stirred and groaned in his sleep while Yates woke up with a start and sat bolt upright, stared about him, saw Adam with the gun in his hand and with a sigh settled back to a restless sleep. 

Adam’s head lolled, fell forward upon his chest and his eyes closed. He was thinking of Olivia, of their parting that last time, the way she had smoothed out his cravat and then ran her hand down his sleeve, the sleeve of his uniform jacket. “You won’t forget how much I love you and need you to come home to me.”

He was almost asleep, savouring the moment when their lips had met in their last farewell kiss, his promise that they would return, and then he was awake and looking about him in horror as his heart hammered beneath his ribs.

Yates was waking, stretching and yawning. Jotham was awake rubbing his face and scratching his head while Jefferson was standing next to Adam looking about him anxiously. Qu’an had prepared a small meal and was handing Adam some on a leaf … for a moment Adam stared at it and then realised that he had indeed fallen asleep ’while on duty’. He shook his head in dismay and looked over at Jotham who grinned “Good morning, sir.”

“Let’s hope so, Jotham. How are you feeling?” Adam stood up, and looked around him. There was no change in scenery, no sounds that were different to those when he had settled down for the night. He looked at Yates who was picking at his food while his eyes were darting everywhere and Jefferson was looking strained and anxious.

“I feel stronger for the nights sleep. Thank you, sir.” Jotham replied.

“That’s good. We should get to the boat today and then make our way to the Mendes store. It won’t be long before we can get those wounds properly attended to.” he smiled and looked at Jefferson “Are you alright, Professor?”

Jefferson nodded and looked thoughtfully at the seaman then smiled “You fell asleep on duty, Captain.”

“I’m ashamed to admit that I did,” Adam sighed and passed his hand across his face, felt the prickle of stubble beneath his fingers.

“There’s no shame in it,” Jefferson said instantly, “Had you trusted me enough I would have volunteered to work a shift so you could sleep. As it was I hope you notice that I didn’t take advantage of your sleep.”

“Duly noted, Professor.” Adam replied and frowned “You wouldn’t have got far, Qu’an never sleeps.”

“I had noticed.” Jefferson smiled slowly and his eyes twinkled, “You are not a superhuman being, Captain, I hope that you don’t think too severely of yourself, no man could have stayed awake throughout the night after the rigours of the day we had…”

Adam nodded, but said nothing. Jefferson sighed and returned to where he had slept and sat down to eat his food. Yates now approached the Captain and smiled “I woke up several times, Captain, it was reassuring to see you there keeping guard, I’d like to thank you for that…” he paused a moment and his face became serious “I was thinking that I’d not turn in a report about all this. Newspapers like facts, honest facts …and they don’t pay well enough for the kind of jaunt we’ve had here.”

“Really? So what do you intend to do, Mr Yates?” Adam smiled good humouredly and realised that he was getting quite fond of the Englishman despite his initial feelings towards him.

“I thought I would write a novel about it all. That way I could disguise the true facts that the Professor would prefer the world not to know about, and make it all into one glorious long story …action, drama, romance…”

“There’s no romance in this story, Yates.” Adam laughed softly.

“Oh but there is, chum, I thought I’d weave a story about the handsome brave Captain who leaves behind a beautiful wife, and the Professor who is in love with his murdered brothers wife… enough romance to capture the hearts of the female readers, enough to make the men wish they were that brave Captain.”

“Are you trying to flatter me, Mr. Yates?” 

“No, not at all. Just telling you my plans, then when you see the novel when it’s printed you’ll know the real story hidden between those hundreds of words. You see, it’s my plan to run it as a serial like Mr Dickens and Mr Wilkie Collins do… a penny for every word they get written and printed, that’s how I’ll make my fortune, Captain, see if I don’t.”

Adam nodded and looked at the other man with amused but narrowed eyes, “You’ve thought this all out?”

“Oh yes, I can understand what the Professors are saying and despite not liking any of them native peoples one bit and wishing them all to … well, you know … the fact is that I wouldn’t want to see harm done. Professor Jefferson was telling me what would happen if the worlds newspapers got to hear about all this…I don’t want to be the one to set the ball rolling.”

Adam nodded and then looked up to see Qu’an observing him, a nod of the head and that was enough, it was time to move on.

The half hazy dream of Olivia had set his mind upon her now, and as he trudged forwards with his arm supporting Jotham, Adam wondered how his wife and his children were faring way back on the Ponderosa. He prayed for their safety, as he did each day, that all was well with them. He longed to see her again, so much so that the longing became an ache in his heart and he became depressed, Jotham had to repeat himself several times before he got the other mans attention.

“It stinks here, doesn’t it, sir?”

Adam raised his head and sniffed as though he had been unaware of the stench of rotting humid vegetation before, he nodded “It’s what one could call ‘ripe.’” 

“Did Yates tell you his plans for his novel?”

“He did.” Adam allowed a smile to lift the corners of his mouth and then he sighed.

“I’m being cast as the hero.” Jotham said with an ironic twist of his lips, “Some hero. He reckons I saved his life.”

“Well, you did…” Adam said quietly and heaved the man higher for Jotham’s feet had began to drag “Do you need to rest now?”

“I’m alright, sir.”

Adam nodded and they walked on, Qu’an in the lead followed by the two seamen, Jefferson and Yates behind them casting anxious looks around every step of the way.

“I’m sorry I can’t repeat poetry, sir.” Jotham said suddenly as he noticed Adam’s face dropping back into melancholy lines again.

“Poetry?” Adam looked puzzled, “How’d you mean?”

“Daniel used to tell me how much you both quoted poetry to one another, he said it passed the time and in some way boosted morale.”

“True enough, it did ..” Adam sighed and thought of his friend, he shook his head as though to banish the memory away “You don’t like poetry?”

“No, not really. Daniel was always into his books, but I enjoyed sport more. Our lives were quite different really, his family moved in different circles to mine. He had excellent schooling, I had enough schooling to last me my lifetime, I ran away to sea when I was 12.”

Adam nodded and then felt ashamed that he, in all the years he had known Jotham, had never enquired about his life, “I always assumed you and Daniel lived within each others pockets, so to speak, you’re very much alike in some ways.”

“Yes we were, very close. But when the war came, the war between states, we went differing ways.” he paused and Adam stopped for the man to catch his breath, ahead of them Qu’an paused and patiently waited.

“Because of his commitment to the Confederacy?”

Jotham frowned then gave a slight shrug of the shoulders “I didn’t think he would have told you that, considering what happened with Maria.”

“He told me… so you weren’t in agreement with him?”

“I chose my own path, kept as neutral as I could, it wasn’t an easy time, being a seaman it kind of pushed you into one direction or another but when the war ended and Dan and I met up, it was as though nothing had happened to break our friendship. Our regard for one another … he was like my brother, sir.”

“That’s how we always thought of you both” Adam replied and together they stepped forward again.

They were silent for some while before Jotham continued, as though he needed to speak “I married a girl from my home town, she was a sweet thing but she died while I was at sea. It was a hard blow so I swore not to get involved in marriage again.”

“Was that when you decided to leave active service, at sea?”

“No sir, that was a while before then… it was actually that trial with Commodore Pelman and yourself, sir, that took me from the sea. President Grant was there, do you recall?”

“I do.”

“There were some other politicians there, one in particular was head of a new unit within the navy … he approached me and that’s what brought about a change of direction for me in the service.”

They lapsed into silence again. Behind them they could hear Jefferson’s heavy breathing, he had got out of the habit of walking for long. Yates was quiet, thinking out his story, how he would introduce his characters, grateful for the long notes he had written during the course of this venture. Qu’an continued doggedly onwards, his sturdy figure like a beacon that they gratefully followed.

Chapter 47

The house was in shadows as the moon slid behind clouds, in the big room a fire burned less brightly, giving off a warm glow that was echoed by the lamp light on the writing desk at which the woman sat, pen in hand, writing materials at her finger tips.

She sat for some moments without moving as though she needed the time to gather her thoughts, her head bowed upon the slender shape of her neck, her long blonde hair braided and trailing down her back. She wore a pink gown that enhanced the colouring of her pale features, her face was all angles and set in stern repose while her large pale green eyes stared down at the blank page.

Upstairs slept her son, clutching his wooden horse, and beside his bed was his devoted grandfather, nodding dozing in his chair. The moon cast long shards of light across the bed but did nothing to disturb the child’s slumbers. Nothing moved but the slight rise and fall of their chests as they breathed.

In his little crib Nathaniel Eric Cartwright lay awake watching shapes and shadows across the ceiling of his room. He didn’t understand them but they were always there although he knew they were sometimes changing. He followed one shadow with his eyes and when it disappeared turned his gaze upon another. His sense of smell told him that mother had been close for a while, it was enough to settle him, he smacked his lips and sighed, his eyes closed and within seconds he was asleep. 

Olivia picked up the pen and carefully wrote down the date, then she paused once more as though she needed to gather her facts and thoughts together

“My dearest, dearest Adam

This has been my first opportunity to put pen to paper for so long. However, in some way it is a good thing that was so because events as they stand now are better than the news I would have written for your eyes to bear a few days previous.

Where do I start? Can I start by saying how much I miss you, how much I have longed to have you here by my side, how much I have needed you, Adam, so desperately. I don’t say this to make you feel guilty, my love, please don’t think so, especially will you understand when I tell you what has happened. But, just for now, let me tell you how much I love you and how much I longed for you to be with me.

Now perhaps you are worried, and that was unfair of me to have written such an introduction but I needed to say it after all we have always been honest with one another, that was what you demanded when we first knew we were to marry, wasn’t it? So now I am saying again, how much I love you, and need you here.

I need to tell you some tragic news, but, my love, be assured your father and brothers are all well. Joe and Hoss have left now for the cattle trail with Luke and Derwent Jessop. They left yesterday and Sofia is staying a while with Mary Ann, and Marcy. We thought it best for Marcy to stay with Mary Ann who has missed dear Bridie so much since her marriage to Paul.

Now I have to tell you what has happened… I suppose it all started just after your father left for Sacramento. There was an incident occurred between Reuben and his friend, Jamie Watts. They smashed the window of Downings Hardware store between them. Ben saw Mr Downing and it appears that Leslie Downing had, for some time, been bullying the younger boys while at school. It seems I am making a lot of this, it hardly seems relevant now in the course of events that followed but I believe that was the beginning of Leslie’s plan to get his revenge on the boys.

I wanted to write it down to you as it happened, I think I need to write it down like that so I can get some sort of order in my own mind. Some understanding into the reasons why such actions take place and why a child would do such a bad thing. I am rambling again, but that is what I need to do because it has tormented me greatly as to why a child of 12 would take a loaded gun to school with the intention of using it.

I know the boy has a bully of a father but I don’t know if the boy was himself bullied. Mrs Downing herself is a plain quiet woman who stands very much in her husbands shadow. Leslie is an only child and pampered by them both, or so I thought. Perhaps that is why he thought he could do something so monstrous and get away with it.

Now I need to tell you what happened, Adam. Reuben had gone to school as usual, and not too worried about being bullied because young David Watson had taken it upon himself to be his protector. Do you remember David? He himself had given Reuben a beating last year and I think the shame of that caused him to take on this role, however, it cost him dear, it cost him his life.

The children say that when David saw Leslie with the gun, he told him to put it away, and Leslie refused to do so, he aimed the gun at Reuben who was standing at some distance from him, but Jamie Watt ran past and was hit by a bullet. Now would you not think that the child would have thrown down the gun at realising what he had done? But no, he fired again and killed David, the poor lad just fell dead in front of them all, and then he fired again at Reuben who was already running away … Paul says that saved Reuben’s life, had he been standing still he would have dropped dead just like David.

Even writing it down for your eyes to see, it still makes no sense to me. Two children dead, and Reuben almost died, but thankfully he lives and sleeps upstairs in his room with dear Ben guarding him as though he can’t bear to let him out of his sight.

Leslie is in jail and there is a trial to be held as soon as the circuit judge gets here. Candy, our new sheriff, refuses to allow the boy out on bail as he doesn’t trust Mr Downing to stay in town with him. My heart keeps going numb at the thought of that boy, I can’t get it out of my head that he is only a child…why would he kill children in that way? 

I’ve written it down now and upon re-reading it wonder whether or not to send this letter on to you as I know it will cause you distress. Perhaps it would be wiser to tear it up and wait for your return. But then, how long will that be before I see your dear face again, and kiss those lips and know that I am safe in your arms once more?

Ben torments himself with guilt, thinking that he should not have gone to Sacramento with Roy, but who can see into the future and know what events will unfold? Who could ever have thought it possible for such as these events to have happened?

My days are days of comforting my little boy, and nursing my baby. Nathaniel has two little teeth now, and he grows more like you than ever. He is so like you that he keeps me sane .. No, don’t worry about that, I just mean that having him in my arms reassures me that you will be home soon.

I can’t imagine what dangers you are going through right now, I can’t and I don’t want to think that you could be harmed or not come home to us. I long for you to be here again with us, my dearest. I long for it so much…

All my love, your ever loving wife
Olivia.”

Carefully she folded it and slipped it into an envelope which she sealed and addressed. Then she weighed it in her hands and with a sigh set it down on the desk top. She would decide in the morning whether or not to ask Cheng Ho Lee to post it.

Chapter 48 

Alfred Stone stood at the window of his hotel room and watched the slowing down of town life. The store owners or their staff were removing their wares from the sidewalks and then sweeping the dust of many feet from the stores before their doors closed and notices put up to indicate that fact. Children disappeared from the streets as though by a mutual signal every mother opened the doors to their homes for their offspring to be sucked back into the centre of family life once more.

Busy housewives made their way to their homes with laden baskets and last minute purchases, pausing here and there to gossip a moment or two before separating to make their own way to their houses. Cowboys rode slowly into town, miners appeared in their worn and soiled denims heading for the eating houses and saloons. In a few hours time the whole place would be transformed as the genteel calm of domesticity gave place to the riot and chaos of the gambling tables, alcohol and other vices available to those with money in their pockets.

He turned away and removed his jacket while he thought over the events of the past few days. It still amazed him that Roy Coffee had accepted his new personna, but then he had ensured that the change he had created in himself would have fooled his twin brother, had he had one. He unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off, removing the quilted garment beneath along with it. He placed that upon a hook in the wardrobe and smiled, without that next to his skin he lost the appearance of two stone from his girth. Next he peered into the mirror and slowly removed the padding from his mouth that plumped out his cheeks, then carefully he peeled away the bushy eyebrows.

Years ago when he had been a young man he had taken to the stage as his profession. All the artifice and creativity of that profession were put to adept use and his popularity as an actor was considerable. He was, as they say in the profession, a natural. After some years however, he realised that his own good looks and abilities caught the attention of the female audience to a considerable and flattering degree. Middle aged matrons, giddy spinsters of a ‘certain age’ particularly fawned over him, and ever a one to make the best out of any situation that presented itself, he had decided to ‘tap this particular vein’ for all he was worth. .. .. And he discovered that his worth was considerable.

There were risks involved, of course, the pond in which he fished was a small one so it had been necessary at times to use his actors skills, to become proficient with his paints and padding, to be able to talk,, eat, drink with his mouth padded out, to look one day thin and another day plump. All had gone well for some years until he made the fatal mistake of following one lady to Virginia City and met his Nemesis, a sheriff called Roy Coffee.

As he leaned forward to check that all sight of stage glue and paint had been removed Alfred Stone - or rather Harry Cochrane - smiled faintly as he recalled his trial for the murder of Mrs Valerie Mather.  By rights he should have been hanged, if not for her death then for the deaths of others for which he was responsible.  But there had been the issue of reasonable doubt and his lawyer, a wily young man, had swung the jury to consider that and thus send the accused to prison for a term of ten years.  Ten years of his life forfeit because of Roy Coffee ...

Looking at himself in the mirror he nodded with approval, if Roy Coffee had seen him now, he would have realised who he was right away. Pouring warm water from the jug into the basin he washed his face and hands thoroughly, within minutes the dark tan which indicated a healthy outdoor lifestyle had gone, leaving his own natural colour, the pallor of a man who had long been incarcerated away from the sun and fresh air.

He stretched his arms above his head and yawned, scratched his head where the new hair was growing through the bald patch he had shaven weeks earlier. He reminded himself that would have to be dealt with soon as he pulled on his shirt and jacket, glanced at his more slender shape in the cheval mirror by the window and then left the room.

He had no fear of anyone recognising him, he was no longer Alfred Stone, but there were not that many in town who would recognise him now as Harry Cochrane, only a few, Roy was one of them, Paul Martin another. He made his way to the Sazarac and to the gambling table where he pulled out his regular seat and smiled benevolently at the other men. Life was good, he told himself, and likely soon to be better.

In the sitting room of the home she shared with her brother Rachel Darrow darned Roy’s socks with her mind on something else entirely with the result that she stabbed herself with the darning needle several times before deciding to put them away and do something different. She looked over at Roy and frowned at the sight of his balding head, his aging face and untidy moustache. His spectacles were pushed up onto his forehead as usual and his eyes were closed, he was snoring, a sure sign he had dozed off midway through their conversation.

Not that there had been much of a conversation , it had been more a one way monologue with her telling him about her day. How the town was impatient for the trial of Leslie Downing, how wrong it was to keep the boy in that cell where hardened criminals were taken every night exposing him to all manner of evils. Would they hang him? As a lawman would he know whether a 12 year old would be hanged? There was talk in town that Reuben Cartwright was hanging onto life by a thread and his uncles had gone off on a cattle drive as calm as you please. Did nothing matter to those Cartwrights anymore?

Then there was the care group or whatever fancy name that Bridie person chose to call it, well, Rachel declared, was it for medical purposes or social? She for one was at a loss to know what it was, and that Widow Hawkins should mind her own business when it came to telling her that at her age she was being foolish to consider courting a man whom she had barely known a matter of weeks.

Rachel Darrow stood up and set aside her darning. She looked thoughtfully around the room at the cosiness of it all, there were some of her bits and pieces she had brought with her when she had chosen to move in with her brother, there were Roys books and maps and old posters that he liked to browse over and she sighed, shook her head and then turned to look at him. 

They had been estranged for a number of years but when she had written to say she needed his help he had not hesitated to provide it. His heart was as generous as any mans could possibly be, what troubles had existed before he had wiped out as easily as a wet sponge removed chalk marks from a board. He had assured her that this was a new beginning for them both, let not the past intrude and spoil it for either one of them.

She walked now to the window and stared out into the darkness, her reflection was dim but it stared back at her. ’Is this all there is’ it seemed to say to her, ’Is this what the last years of your life will consist of?’
……………..

The boat slid easily into the water as the three men pushed it from its covert. Jotham was seated in the middle with Qu’an at the prow with the paddle in his hands, Yates behind him with another paddle, Jotham and then Jefferson, and Adam in the stern with his paddle. Striking the water in unison the little wooden vessel slipped through the water with an ease that was both soothing and reassuring. That is, if one ignored the alligators who opened their cold eyes and upon seeing the vessel waddled clumsily to the waters edge and then floated easily into the water.

The strokes of the paddles became stronger, firmer as the three men strove to remove themselves as far away from their reptilean enemy as possible. Adam wondered as he plied his arms to the oar, how they would fare if one of the creatures decided to glide beneath their boat and then re-surface. Who would survive? Could they survive? His pistol was in hands reach between his knees and his eyes moved from left to right constantly to ensure their safety.

Yates had discovered that if he concentrated on ’writing’ his novel, chapter by chapter, word by word, then whatever was happening beyond that world could be handled and eventually incorporated into the book he was going to create. Sometimes he was so hard at thinking out phrasing and adjectival clauses that he forgot to keep in time with the rowing and even once fumbled with the paddle nearly losing it to the river.

Jefferson was thinking of the discoveries he was leaving behind. The marvel of that ceiling, the beauty of the carving of some pillar that must at one time supported some grand ceiling. He thought of the people who must, so long ago, come in their own boats along this same vast causeway in order to erect the city that time had forgotten. He had decided to shut his mind to the fears of what awaited him in Albany, of Matilda Jefferson and the murder charge. It was easier to allow his mind to slip into the mysteries of what he was convinced must have been a far better time, a far richer splendid time altogether.

The alligators stopped and wallowed as alligators were wont to do… looking like submerged logs cruising in the waters where vines and roots of trees and scuttling creatures existed. Their eyes blinked open and shut … but the little boat sped on.
……………….

Bridie O’Flannery Martin patted the horse on its nose as she passed it by and approached the house that Adam had built so long ago and that had been the home of Candy and Ann Canaday for so long. She knocked on the door and pushed it open, peeked into the porch just as Olivia opened the other door and stepped forward to embrace her dear friend. The cry of a baby wafted towards them and Olivia gave a little laugh as though in apology for her sons bad behaviour “He’s been grizzly all day.”

“It is very warm,” Bridie said removing her light cape and bonnet which she placed on the bureau by the door, “How’s Reuben?”

“Oh, I thought Paul would have told you, have you seen him this morning?” Olivia led the way into the main room where Mary Ann, Hester, Marcy and the children were gathered. The materials and threads indicated the purpose of their being there, it was their quilt making day, the time they gathered together each week to talk together as family should about the things that mattered, the things that didn’t, and to laugh, if one could, or weep if one needed.

“I’ve some letters for you.” Bridie said, “And no, I’ve not seen Paul yet. He had several calls to make before getting back to me. I did tell him I was going to call in and see you here. Hello, Marcy, how lovely to see you here as well.” 

There were kisses, hands squeezed, smiles shared. Olivia looked at the letters, and sighed, looked momentarily dejected and then looked up, saw the expectant faces and smiled “It looks like Reuben has a letter from Billy Webb.”

“Oh he will be pleased.” Hester said re-threading her needle carefully, “He and Billy became so close eventually.”

“Here’s a letter for Ben,” Olivia said and passed it to Hester, “I don’t recognise the writing.”

Hester sniffed “Perfume! And it’s a woman’s handwriting.”

Mary Ann leaned over and sniffed the envelope, she nodded “Mmm, lavender, not the choice of a young woman.”

Bridie laughed and sat down, she stooped to pick up little Hope and bounce her on her knee and hugged her, the little blonde haired child snuggled in close, confident of nothing but security and love from this newcomer.

Nathaniel stopped his moans when his mother picked him up and carried him to the group, he blinked long lashed eyelids dewy still from tears, and gurgled a smile, dimples formed in his cheeks and Mary Ann shook her head and said “Oh my goodness, look at him, a little Adam Cartwright.”

Olivia sat down with the baby in her lap, she passed a hand over his downy head to smooth the black curls and looked over at the family… there was Sofia with her dolls chatting to Hannah who was looking intently at Clarabelle as though the doll was the cause of all the worlds woes. Little Hope now asleep against Bridie’s breast, her rosebud mouth a little heart shape in her pale face. Daniel was eating a cookie with a look of grim determination on his face and his eyes on a plate balance rather precariously on a low table nearby, this was the new generation of Cartwrights, and upstairs was her little boy, her Reuben, clinging to life, wavering one day towards strength and good health, and then wavering towards weakening the next.

Chapter 49

Ben held the envelope to his nose and sniffed, smiled and looked at his daughter in law with a twinkle in his eye “Well now,” he drawled, “I wonder who this could be from?”

Hester fluttered her eyelashes and smiled back “Well, we won’t know until you open it, and tell us, Pa.”

Ben laughed and leaned forward to pick up Hope who was toddling towards him with a bunch of wilted wild flowers in her hand, Hannah paused in her running into the house to grab his leg and give it a hug before continuing onwards. He turned with Hester beside him and Hope in his arms “Definitely a lady.”

“Oh yes, definitely.”

“Post mark?”

“San Francisco.” Hester laughed “I thought at first it might have been from Sacramento.”

“Now what, I wonder, would have made you think of Sacramento?” Ben swung Hope down and watched the little girl toddle off to join Hannah in play “How was Reuben?”

His tone was serious now and he avoided looking at her as he kept his eyes on the girls, so she placed a gentle hand on his arm and squeezed it “He’s holding his own. Some days it seems he is recovering very well, and then suddenly he just seems to struggle again. Paul said it was almost as though he was afraid to get better.”

Ben frowned “Pauls getting very involved with all this mind controlling the body kind of thing, ever since the time we had trouble with Ross Marquette he’s been intrigued by how the brain works. I wish he would just stick to his doctoring and get the boy well.”

Hester sighed and said nothing, she didn’t like to mention to her father in law the progress being made in medicine that had revealed how great a part the mind had to do with the physical well being of a person. Jimmy Chang had helped Paul so much in that field, the Chinese having been so knowledgeable about the way the body had to be balanced in order to be healthy.

Ben strolled to his study and settled down in the old captains chair that he had brought in San Francisco years before, he had claimed at the time that it still had the smell of the sea worked into the leather. He opened the letter and smiled as he recognised the signature, so, no mystery there after all. He smoothed the paper out and began to read:

“Dear Ben

Just a few lines to let you know that I recently had a letter from Paloma Barrington, as she put it, to introduce herself! She requested the possibility of visiting San Francisco with her brother in order for us to meet as ‘family’. It was a request that I had no intention of accepting as their circumstances prevent me from believing it is just to make our acquaintance.

Another reason for my declining is Julian’s health. He is far from well now, weakening it seems almost very day. His mind is sharp, Ben, but his body very frail. The Doctors tell me it is to do with his heart condition but I never knew he had any heart condition! Be that as it may, I have been warned to expect his death very soon.

It is sad times, Ben. No one can halt time no matter how much one would wish to do so, but upon looking back upon our brief span of years on this earth, it has been a wonderful adventure, hasn’t it?

Sincerely yours
Martha Frobisher.”

Ben re-read the letter and sadly slipped it back into its envelope. Hester bustled into view bearing a cup of coffee which she placed upon the desk with a smile which faded at the look on his face “Bad news?”

“Sad news, my dear. Julian Frobisher is dying. He’s been a great friend to us over the years, he and Martha -”

“Martha of the red hair?” Hester smiled gently as she recalled the strands of hair Ben had found in the book some months earlier.

“Yes, Martha with the red hair, and Julian - always so dapper and smart. You would never have guessed that his wife was a mere washer woman, but then one would never have guessed that she had once been heiress to a vast fortune -” he paused and stared into the space above Hesters head as his mind travelled back in time, seeing again the wild washoe diggings, the very attractive young woman industriously scrubbing the miners clothing while her husband practised law while at the same time proving to be a useless miner on their ‘claim’. He smiled dreamily “She would sift out the water through fine muslin every wash and gradually saved away more gold that Julian ever found in his claim. That set him up in business …”

Hester murmured her sympathies and asked if he would like more coffee which he declined, “No, I think I’ll just write Martha a reply …” his voice trailed away as he set down the cup and saucer and with a sigh picked up paper and pen.

…………..

Olivia plumped up the pillows behind her sons back and smiled at the pale face, the large eyes that looked back from dark hollows hardly seemed to be those of her fiesty little boy. She sat down on the chair beside the bed and took the letter from her pocket, “Guess who this is from?”

“Is it from Pa?” the child replied eagerly but when he saw the way her face fell he sighed and shook his head “I don’t know, who is it from, Ma?”

“It’s a letter from Billy Webb.”

He looked a little more alert then, a smile came to his pale lips and his eyes dilated a little, “Will you read it, Ma?”

“Alright. Now, are you comfortable? Good .. This is what he says:

‘Dear Reuben

I have settled into school pretty well here. The teachers are strict but it is a bigger school than the one in Virginia City and all boys here. You would like it, Reuben.

Grandpa and Grandma are very kind. Life is very different here. No cowboys.. No miners. Big posh shops and stores. I have a horse of my own called Robbie. It’s black and white, I wanted to call it Cochise because I remember your Uncle Joe had a horse called that which was black and white.

The house is big and there are some servants. It takes some getting used to. I have to have a bath every week. That’s the worst of the place.
I hope you are all doing alright over there. I am going to write novels and books when I get older all about Virginia City. I met Mark Twain last week he came to tea here and told me he knew your Pa. Your Pa hit him on the jaw and knocked him over. He said he really liked thos Cartwrights. I said I did too.

Write soon like what you promised… your friend, Billy Webb.”

Reuben leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. He remembered wild Billy who had nearly killed Sofia, caused trouble all the time, that poor bruised beaten body. He sighed and looked up to see his mother gazing anxiously down at him “Mom, is David … is it real? Did Leslie really shoot David?” his lips trembled a little and he turned his head to look at the wooden horse that stood proudly on the low table by his bed “Is David really dead?”

“Yes, Reuben, he is, and so is Jamie.”

He reached out hot feverish hands and grabbed at hers, held them tightly between his own “Why did he do it, Ma?”

“I don’t think even he knows why, dear.”

“Will they hang him?”

“That depends on the judge when it comes to trial, Reuben.” she stroked his hands gently, and looked at his face “You must get well, dear. You have to get stronger for me.”

“I am trying, Ma. I just feel tired all the time.”

She said nothing to that, just brushed back some of his hair with her fingers before taking hold of his hands again. At the movement from the doorway she turned and Sofia ran into the room, Clarabelle in her arms, she held out her hand to her brother who grabbed hold so limply that even Sofia realised that her big brother really was still unwell. She looked at Olivia with a troubled expression on her face before clambering up onto the bed and cuddling into him just as she used to when they were smaller. “Daddy’s coming home soon,” she whispered, “You’ll see, you have to get better, Reuben, or he’ll be upset.”

Olivia bowed her head, what faith her little girl had in Adam Cartwright, she thought as she shielded her face with a hand, for a moment she had doubted that he would ever come back, it already seemed such a long time since he had left them.
…………..

Rachel Darrow looked at the little note that she had taken from her pocket and smiled as she read the scrawled message “Dearest, meet me at Del Monico’s … supper tonight at 8. I have something I want to speak to you about.. Alfred.”

She hurried to her room and opened her wardrobe doors to pick out her outfit for the evening. Roy had taken himself out, no doubt to visit Candy and Ann for an hour or two. He had taken to visiting them lately and for that she was glad, it gave her some respite from his presence and he always came home late enough for her to be in bed . 

By 7.30 p.m she was dressed and primped to perfection. She picked up her maroon cape with the fringe of feathers and draped it over her shoulders, tweaked a curl loose here and there and smiled at her reflection in the mirror, in a good light she appeared at least ten years younger.


Norman Evans had worked at the hotel for some years and had found one of his greatest reliefs from boredom was watching the clientele and guessing what work they did, or what they would be doing in Virginia City during their visit. He was concerned about one of their guests however, and that was Mr Alfred Stone, the rather florid faced portly gentleman who occupied room 201.

He watched him as he came down the stairs, jaunty as ever with that pleasant smile on his face and his eyes, very blue eyes, seeming to see right through a man. For all his affability, Norman thought, Mr Stone was rather intimidating. He stepped forward with a slight cough “Er - excuse me, Mr Stone?”

Alfred paused and looked at the young man, he smiled “Yes, Norman?”

“I was - I was just wondering if the gentleman found you in, the gentleman who went up to your room a while ago only I didn’t see him come back down again.”

“What gentleman do you mean, Norman?” the blue eyes looked blank, wary, and the smile was less welcoming.

“Well, a gentleman, sir, thin, medium height, wearing a bowler hat he was, sir.”

“I haven’t seen any man of that description, Norman. Are you sure he was looking for me?”

“He went to your room, sir. Went right into it…” Norman faltered a little realising that he was about to commit a blunder as Mr Stone had every right to demand how the stranger could enter the room without a key, unless a key had been provided by a member of staff of course, in which case…he gulped … “I thought you were inside, Mr. Stone, no other way he could have got into the room otherwise.”

Alfred looked at Norman thoughtfully, then smiled rather vaguely “That’s right of course, an old friend. I met him earlier today …” he stepped forward, paused and smiled again at the young man “Thank you, Norman.”

Norman wasn’t sure why he was being thanked but he nodded and tapped his brow politely, after all 201 was a very expensive suite and the Manager would have his hide if Mr Stone were to vacate it because of something he had said to upset their customer. He watched Mr Stone leave the building, his bald head covered by a smart bowler hat.

 

Chapter 50

The Mendes store remained as they had last seen it and the fact that neither man nor wife would ever be occupying the property again gave it an air of poignancy as they approached it. The door opened after a slight push and shove on Adam’s part while he wondered if the two men who had acted as their guides would still be there, enjoying free food from the Mendes store room.

An overpowering stench as soon as the door was opened caused all four men to step back with some haste. Jotham blanched “Smells like rotten eggs…”

“Smells like something worse than that,” Adam muttered as he pulled the door wider to allow some clean air into the building while mosquitoes and flies were able to find an way out.

“Bad meat.” Qu’an said with an emphatic nod of the head.

“Very likely,” Adam agreed as he stepped inside with a cautionary hand warning the others to remain where they were outside.

Pele and Luis had never been handsome men even in their prime, but now, in death, their appearance was horrific. Adam blanched and stepped back at the sight of them, turned his head away and swallowed bile. He hurried to the doorway and stepped out, pushed past the others and leaned against the bars of the verandah as he shook his head “They’re both dead.”

“Dead? But I thought only one man had been injured?” Jotham said with a swift glance at Yates who was looking rather green.

“They’ve been killed, not very pleasantly.” Adam replied and stared out at the wilderness with its lush abundance of greenery, he shook his head “Well, whoever did it could well be among those men who found a worst ending in your village, Professor Jefferson.”

Jefferson shook his head and surveyed the Captain with a regretful shrug of the shoulders as though to say he had nothing to do with it, sad as it may be. “Well,” Adam muttered, “We need to eat, and to rest. Jotham, you need to get some attention to those wounds so it’s best that we get the mess in there cleared up. Yates, steel yourself now, and come and help. Professor?” he looked at Jefferson who nodded and waited expectantly for his next orders.

Jotham was left to sit on the veranda’s ricketty old chair while Qu’an stood a silent guardian. Inside the building the other three men removed the mens remains, wrapping them in blankets and hurriedly carrying them out to the back of the building. Windows were opened and then brooms efficiently applied to clean out the remaining mess. It took over an hour before Adam could agree that it was safe for re-entry and occupancy.

“You did well, Yates.” Adam said as they helped Jotham into the back bedroom, which was untouched by the dramatic events that had taken place in the main store room with its simple truckle bed that the Mendes had set up for travellers in the past.

“It didn’t compare with what I saw in the village, Captain. You wait ‘til you read my book, it’ll make your hair stand on end.” Mark Yates said with such cheerfulness that one could almost believe the book had been published and his pockets were weighing him down with sovereigns.

Jotham sunk gratefully upon the bed and relaxed for the first time since the fight. He closed his eyes and released his breath “This feels good,” he murmured, “Thank you, Captain.”

Adam smiled slightly before saying that he would check the stores and see what medical equipment there was available to give the younger man further relief. Yates said something about looking for food and having a decent meal for once and then promptly disappeared. By the time Adam had left the bedroom Jotham had fallen into a deep sleep.

Jefferson had been scouring around the shelves seeing what provisions there were but looked over at Adam as he came out of the other room “How is he?”

“He’ll be alright once he sleeps.”

“I reckon we all will,” Jefferson replied, “I ache all over I’m that tired. It’s been a long time since I had such a trek through this wilderness. Scolley and I have led a rather sedentary life since we reached that village.”

Yates looked up from where he had been rummaging about a cupboard “You really think that place you was in had been built all them thousands of years ago?”

“Probably before the time the city of Tyre was defeated by Alexander the Great.” Jefferson replied with great authority which caused Yates to whistle in awe “Yes, that long ago, they were great seamen, remnants of their world have been found as far as Cornwall in England, so I’m quite sure that they were the ones who built that old city.”

“S’trewth, and you reckon those villagers were their descendents?” Yates asked as he surveyed some tins of food on a shelf with some suspicion.

“That I’m not so sure about, Scolley thinks so, but I’m inclined to disagree with him. I’m always prepared to be proven wrong of course.”

Adam listened to their chatter for a while before asking if they had found food to last them for at least one decent meal to which Yates said there was enough food to last them a week “Well, 24 hours will be enough,” Adam replied to that with a slight furrow of the brow, “We all need sleep, Jotham in particular. Any medicines there, Mr Yates?”

“Oh, Mr Yates is it now, I am doing alright for myself ain’t I?” Yates muttered to himself as he searched through another cupboard and produced a box containing various medical stuffs that a man living in such a remote and dangerous area could require in case of any emergencies.

“Can you cook, Mr Yates?” Jefferson asked and upon receiving a nod of the head “In which case I’ll leave it to you, all I can do is make the coffee.”

Adam was already returning to the other room where Jotham was sleeping. He’d collected clean water in a bowl and with the ointments and bandages available proceeded to tend the wounds as best he could without waking the man. By the time he had finished Jotham was awake and grumbling at being disturbed, but the smell of food cooking soon placated him and with the help of Adam’s arm limped his way into the other room.

Yates hadn’t exaggerated his skill at cooking and the food he had dished up was a credit to him. Bottles of cerveja (beer) had been found along with bottles of a rough reddish wine which they drank sparingly with the meal. Qu’an had eaten out of politeness but had insisted on staying outside the building on the verandah, it was strongly suspected that he threw most of the meal over the side for the rats and other wild life to enjoy.

By the time darkness fell the four men were sleeping soundly. Qu’an had found a safe place among the trees, a stoic and sturdy sentinal while inside, although he slept, Adam kept his gun close to hand.

If an army the size of Alexander the Great’s had arrived at their doorstep not one of them would have known, even Adam slept so soundly that nothing could have disturbed him or roused him from his sleep. Exhaustion, relief at having found some security, false or not, had taken their toll on them all and overpowered them more successfully than any threats or beatings could have done.

The sleep was dreamless for it was total and when each man eventually awoke it was to find their heads clear, their bones aching, and their stomachs rumbling. Only Jotham slept on, a healing sleep from which he didn’t awaken until he was roused by Adam shaking him by the shoulder in order for him to eat the breakfast Yates’ had conjured up.

“When do we leave here?” Jefferson asked as he finished his meal and pushed away the plate.

“Tomorrow morning.” Adam replied, crading his cup of coffee between his hands “That will give Qu’an time to rest, Jotham needs to recover his strength as well, there is still a way to go before we reach the city.”

“And from there?”

“We board my ship, Professor, and head for America.” Adam looked up over the rim of his cup, “Or had you forgotten?”

“No, of course not.” Jefferson replied quietly and looked away from Adam to survey Yates, “Thank you for the meal, Mr Yates.”

The Englishman nodded but continued scribbling his notes with an industry that had been part of his manner throughout the trip, but his vague smile indicated that these notes were of a more interesting angle than the previous he had taken down. Adam excused himself and returned to sit with Jotham who had fallen back to sleep again. 

It was going to be a long day with hours of inactivity but Yates was happy enough to write his notes, chatter about what the story was going to be about to whoever happened to be around to listen and cooked the meals. 

Adam and Jefferson buried Luis and Pele close to Mr Mendes grave. Thereafter they ate and slept the day away. Twenty four hours of total peace and relaxation, it had been a long time coming and all the more welcome as a result.

In the morning they ate a light breakfast, packed food and clean water into the boat, and with Qu’an in his designated position as guide, began the journey through the pantonal rivers many tributaries towards the city.

A slow progress, hampered by the humidity, the flies and mosquitoes. Alligators followed in their wake as though their main aim in life was to have them for lunch. Each man there, apart from Qu’an, found no beauty in their surroundings, their antipathy towards it only made them more anxious to reach their destination as soon as possible.

 

Chapter 51

The Fazenda came into sight as they paddled around the curve in the river, a more ramshackle affair than Adam could recall it from their previous visit. The children ran out onto the pier waving their stick thin arms and laughing at them followed by their father with his machete in his hand. There was no comment about any anaconda’s this time as he recognised them and Qu’an and waited for them to bring the wooden vessel up to the pier to be secured.

The children stepped back in order for Jose to give a hand to the injured man and assist him onto the wooden planks of the little pier, while Neva, his wife, hurried forwards to also help, her face softening at the sight of the younger man. As the couple helped Jotham to the building with the children skipping and running alongside, Jefferson and Yates followed along behind them while Adam had a short dialogue with Qu’an.

The Captain stepped into the building just as Neva was unbuttoning Jothams shirt to examine the injuries for herself and Jose was pouring out cerveja (beer) into various mugs. “What happen to ’ombre?”

Jefferson and Yates exchanged a look but said nothing, accepting their beer and nodding their thanks, it was left to Adam to explain that there had been a fight and Jotham had come off the victor which made Jose laugh heartily and Neva to shake her head and murmur something beneath her breath.

It took little time for Neva to attend to Jotham and the younger man insisted he was feeling much better and thanked her profusely. Jose looked around at the four of them and frowned “It seem to me trouble come when you -” he pointed to Jefferson “and your friends come to look for diamonds and cities that no one speaks about before you come. Now more ’ombres come and more trouble with forest people. It’s good you go and leave now.” 

“Have there been more people travelling the rivers since we left here, Jose?” Adam asked as he turned the mug round and round in his hands

“Some.” came the grunted reply and Adam looked at Yates and Jotham, then nodded but said nothing.

The children were called in to eat with them, an innocent laughing giggling duo who lightened the mood that would otherwise have settled over the meal. Neva was a good cook and mother, attentive as she had ever been, providing a simple meal that Qu’an would prefer and which she carried out to him as he remained seated on guard at the boat.

“Did you know the Mendes were dead?” Adam asked Jose when Neva had gone from the table.

“Jacquetta?” Jose started and his eyes went large in his face, he shook his head “She also?”

Adam nodded and watched as the other man’s face fell into the expressions of grief that a loved one would show, “But - this is not possible -” Jose cried, shaking his head in disbelief “He was a good man, a good man -” he bowed his head “Jacquetta, such a good woman.”

“She cared for me,” Jefferson said, “when I had the fever.” he looked over at Adam as though to indicate his gratitude that no mention was made of the exact cause of his illness “she was a good woman.”

Jose stood up and placed a hand upon the shoulders of his children “Jacquetta was my sister. We were - how you say it - she - I loved her.”

Neva came in and was told, her hands covered her face and she wailed at the loss of her sister in law, followed by a long spiel of dialogue that only her husband and children understood. Jose finally turned to the four men and simply asked how had she died, and who had been responsible.

Adam spared them the details of her ordeal and told them how she had been killed by the men who had killed her husband. She had been buried correctly and her murderers had been duly executed for what had happened. He spoke as briefly about it as he could, too many details would have led only to further recriminations and for the Latin temperment the demand for revenge and justice.

Yates listened and became filled with remorse and melancholy. He blamed himself severely for the cause of the storekeeper and the wife’s deaths after all, he had brought the man to the place. He retreated to a shadowy corner of the building and made himself as small and unnoticeable as possible while Neva ushered her children away in order to prepare them for their bed.

He could hear their whispers, the name of their aunt mentioned by them and in Neva’s response. He could only imagine that they were asking about what had happened and she was explaining that their aunt was dead. He felt further remorse as a result. He watched as the Pantaneiro refilled the mugs with the crude beer and then abruptly left the building.

Yates approached Adam and in a low voice asked if he could spare a few minutes, in private. “What’s on your mind?” Adam asked as they drew into a further section of the room.

“What happened was my fault, I led those men here, to the store.”

Adam looked at him thoughtfully and shook his head “Those men knew about Jacquetta helping Jefferson, they knew where the Mendes store was, they didn’t really need you to take them to the place. You were just useful to have around at the time.”

“I don’t think her brother would see it that way,” Yates said with a sigh, “He’d blame me. People like him always blame Europeans or Americans, it’s part of their culture.”

Adam gave a thin smile “You’ve made a study of them, huh?”

“I may be a weak man in many ways, Captain, but I can read people. He’s out there thinking things over, he’s already decided that Jefferson and his friends caused more problems than they have before so now he’s trying to think of a way to fix Mrs M’s murder on us as well.”

Adam ran a thumb across his mouth and frowned, then looked over his shoulder at Jotham who was dozing and Jefferson who was pushing his mug around the table as though debating within himself as to whether or not to drink any of the beer still in it. He put his hand on Yates arm and nodded “I think you may be right.”

“What do you think we should do?” Yates voice trembled slightly, and he looked over at the doorway through which they could see that Jose had returned.

“We’ll leave.” Adam said “The sooner the better.”

Yates face revealed the depth of his relief, he nodded and walked with Adam to where Jose had seated himself once more at the table, the flagon of beer was pulled out and made available but before he had refilled the other mugs Adam placed some coins down by his arm “Jose, this is to thank you for your hospitality. We leave now.”

“You? Leave? But already it is dark outside…the jacare and jaguar … they wait out there for you.” Jose stood up, his square solid body a barrier between them and the door.

“I have a big ship waiting for me, Jose.” Adam explained slowly, “Many men will come if I am delayed. You understand?”

Jose understood. His eyes narrowed and shifted from one man to the other, they fixed upon Jefferson and he stared at him for a moment “You come - cause trouble here - you go.”

Jefferson was only too pleased to go, he helped Jotham to his feet and together made their way to the door. As they passed the table Jose brought up his machete from where he had placed it close at hand, it thudded down upon the wooden surface and the look on his face was sufficient for Adam to know that they had made the right decision to leave as promptly as they were.

Qu‘an said nothing as the four men approached the wooden dug out, he waited until they were seated, paddles in hand, and with them pushed away from the pier.

They were extra cautious in how they paddled, slowly, aware of the dark sinister shapes that swam alongside them, brushed against the little dugout and sometimes nudged it out of the route they had chosen. Sounds drifted past them indicative of night noises, and amplified by the silence of darkness. Bugs flitted across the surface of the water and shone like little lanterns, providing the only light by which they could make their way.

The dipped their paddles into the water first to the left and then to the right. Each man silent, not a word spoken, water dripped black into the vastness of dark that rippled away from before them.

 

Chapter 52

The sheriff’s office was empty when Norman Evans stepped into it and looked around just in case one of the officials happened to be in the cell area but when he went there the only person he found was the boy, Leslie Downing who stared at him with pale eyes in red rimmed lids. “Have you seen the sheriff, kid?” Norman asked staring at the fat boy he had heard so much about but never actually seen before.

“No, sir, you done brung me some food?” Leslie snivelled, wiping his nose across the back of his hand as he spoke.

“No, I come to see the Sheriff on official business.” Norman replied and then after another look at the boy he turned and walked back into the office just as the door opened and Deputy Dodds entered

“What are you doing here, Mister?” Dodds demanded immediately and narrowed his eyes in order to make himself look more official and mean.

“I came to see the sheriff.”

“Well, as you can see he ain’t here. You got anything to report, you report to me in his absence.” Dodds strutted to the desk and poured himself some coffee, then sat down in the sheriff’s chair “What do you want to report?”

“Well, nothing really, except…” Norman paused and bit his bottom lip, perhaps he was being fanciful, perhaps he should just leave well alone and ignore it. His mother told him he was too imaginative for his own good, but since he was knee high to a grass hopper and Sheriff Coffee would walk around town with him on his shoulders talking about being a sheriff, Norman had always wanted to be a law enforcement officer. 

“You wasting official time, Mister.” Dodds said squaring his shoulders, “Now either you have a problem to report, or you leave before I charge you.”

“But I ain’t done nothing wrong.” Norman quailed and stepped back a pace or two.
“You’re standing there doing nothing, telling me nothing, that’s wasting my time.”

“Well, I wanted to talk to the sheriff about something that I was thinking kind of odd. It’s about a guest at our hotel, you see…” his voice trailed away as Dodds stared at him and slurped at his coffee “You should be writing this down, Sheriff Coffee always wrote things down.”

“I’m not Sheriff Coffee.” Dodds said slowly, and stared at Norman again, “You weren’t in here intimidating our prisoner, was you?”

“No, no, of course not.”

“Well then in that case I suggest you go and talk to Sheriff - I mean - Mr Coffee about your problem and see what notes he makes about them.” Dodds smirked, he thought that was really witty of him and he gulped down more coffee which was rather hotter than he bargained for as it scalded the roof of his mouth and he jumped up cursing “Now look what you got me a-doing, you best git outa here before I lose my temper, dangblast it.”

Norman ‘got outa there’ as quickly as he could and for a second or two hurried down the sidewalk before stopping to think. Having made up his mind he calmed himself down and made his way to Roy Coffee’s house, knocked smartly on the freshly painted door - a man has to do some kind of work in his retirement - and waited for it to open.

Roy came to the door and upon recognising Norman gave him a smile “Well, young Norman, what can I do for you? Come on in ..”

“Thank you, Sheriff.” Norman removed his hat and clutched it against his chest, he nodded over to Mrs Darrow who was walking quickly towards the door with a grim look on her face.

“Roy’s no longer sheriff here, people should remember that by now and leave him in peace. Now, off you go, young man, and take your matter to Sheriff Canaday.” she waved a gloved hand at him and then turned to Roy “And you shouldn’t be encouraging them here either.”

“It’s a social call,” Roy snapped at his sister, “Young Norman’s paying me a visit as an old friend of mine.”

“Really?” she fixed Norman with a scowl, “Well, let me remind you that you have no time for a social visit just now as you’re due for your appointment with Dr Martin. In fact, you’re five minutes late.”

She nodded again at Norman and swept past him adjusting her hat as she went as though having vented her spleen on her brother had ruffled not only the proverbial feathers but also her bonnet. Roy sighed and shook his head, he looked regretfully at Norman “I’m sorry, Norman, but I have to go and see Doc Martin. Is it anything important?” he asked as he closed the door behind him and turned to face Norman who stepped back to let the old man go pass him.

“I don’t suppose so, Sheriff Coffee. Just something I thought a bit odd about one of our guests at the hotel.”

“Ah yes, the hotel, that’s right, you work there at the Whitney Hotel, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir, I do, and I see things that are really interesting too, if I were a real live sheriff I reckon I would really find some things going on with some of our clients that would really be illegal.”

“Is that right?” Roy nodded, and strolled on past the picket gate which he closed behind him and Norman. He smiled at the young man and thought nostalgically of the days when the boy would sit on his shoulders and he would take him on his rounds with him and folk would look and think what kind of way was that to do any sheriffing, but Norman was eager to learn about being a lawman, it was just a pity he had such a vivid imagination. Not that a bit of imagination wasn’t essential to be a good sheriff, Roy was all for having a ‘bit’ but not as much as Norman had, sadly.

“I got a guest right now who is a real mystery.” Norman said, keeping pace with Roy who still walked too fast when he chose to put his mind to it, “Room 201, our best and most expensive suite. The guest there is a real puzzler.”

“In what way?” Roy stepped into the road, looked both ways and hurried across towards Pauls surgery.

“Just odd, you know?”

Roy nodded, and then pursed his lips so that his moustache bristled in the old familiar way, he looked at Norman thoughtfully, “Well, I got to get this appointment over and done with, Norman. Keep an eye on your guest in 201 and let me know what’s happening.” he put his hand on the door and smiled at the youth “Well done, lad. You’ll make a good sheriff one of these days.”

Norman blushed, that was praise indeed coming from the best ever sheriff in the whole world, in his opinion anyway. He muttered his thanks and left Roy there to face Pauls scrutiny while he himself did some more investigating.
…………

Rachel Darrow smiled over at her companion and relaxed, he was five minutes later than usual but he had arrived and that was the main thing. She leaned over to wards him and was rewarded with the familiar smell of a male perfume. She wasn’t too sure she liked a man who smelled of perfume or cologne, it wasn’t something that she was that familiar with and thought rather fanciful, but the smell was pleasant despite her objections. She smiled again “Roy had to go to see Paul, a health check.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.” Alfred said quietly as he nodded over at the waiter who came to present the menu to them.

“Just a routine check over. He’s not getting any younger after all.”

Alfred looked at her thoughtfully and then smiled in that way he had which she found so endearing, she placed her hand upon his and squeezed his fingers affectionately.

Alfred Stone glanced around the room, several other tables were occupied, he noticed the way Mrs Garston and her daughter were watching them, eyes quickly averted as his gaze swept over them. He looked at Rachel and nodded, she was an attractive woman, must have been beautiful when younger, a real eye turner. He put his hand upon hers “Rachel, you look charming today. Is that a new bonnet.”

She put her head to one side as though wishing to look at her best angle, she smiled how like him to notice “I only took delivery of it yesterday. It came all the way from Chicago.”

“Don’t they have a decent milliners here in town, my dear?”

“I suppose so, but I’ve always had my hats made by Louis in Chicago.” she replied and removed her hand, “It’s just that I don’t like wearing a model that anyone else here in town may be buying a few days later, if you understand.”

He nodded and looked at her again thoughtfully, accepted that the woman was a snob and then cast his eye down the list on the menu, he gave his order, and hers, and handed the leather bound cover to the waiter who hurried off with it under his arm. Now the two sat and smiled at one another, Widow Hawkins gave them a curt nod of the head as she did so with an audible sniff once she was pass their table, Alfred raised his eyebrows but Rachel gave a soft laugh “Don’t mind her, Alfred, it’s just sour grapes.”

He sighed and leaned towards her, the aroma of his cologne drifted past her nostrils as he did so, he reached out and took her hand in his “Rachel, I want to ask you something very personal.”

“Which is?” she looked puzzled although deep down in her heart she was hoping against hope that it was the one thing she longed for him to ask her, her breathing became a little faster as a result and a slight colour mounted her cheeks. “Well, Alfred?”

“This isn’t really the setting I had planned - it should be moonlight, music and stars in the sky, but I’m an impatient man and I couldn’t wait any longer…”

“Well, moonlight, music and stars all have their place in the order of things I suppose,” she muttered with a slight furrow upon her brow 

“Especially in view of the matter I want to discuss with you.” his fingers tightened upon hers and she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, wondering what they would have to discuss, “Rachel, would you give me the honour of accepting - I mean - would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

She blinked, now that he had asked her she felt surprise, she had wanted him to propose and yet suddenly here she was having to make a decision, a major decision. She looked at him, into his eyes, the clear deep blue of them and the smile on his lips, she smiled “I hadn’t expected you to ask that …”

“Surely you must have known how I’ve felt for you? Oh of course, we’ve not known each other very long have we? Does that disturb you? Do you want to wait longer? We don’t need to marry right away, just enough time to settle arrangements.”

“Arrangements?” she whispered as she watched him bring out a little box from his waistcoat pocket.

“Yes, like where we will live, that kind of thing….” he fumbled with the lid as though he had never done this kind of thing before in his life and then it flicked open and there was a perfect blue stone, the colour of his eyes, flanked by diamonds, small but perfectly cut. She gasped and her cheeks coloured as she reached out to take it from him “I mean, you wouldn’t want to live at your brothers, would you?”

“Oh no, certainly not.” she breathed and took the ring from the box “It’s beautiful, Alfred.”

“If it’s too small or too big…” he blustered as though he were some nervous teenager.

From their table Mrs Garston and Lucy watched as Mr Alfred Stone slipped the ring on the finger of Mrs Rachel Darrow’s left hand, they looked at one another, Lucy went a little red in the face and got up to leave the restaurant, closely followed by her mother. But Rachel didn’t notice, she was looking at her ring, then at Alfred, and thinking herself the happiest person on earth.

Chapter 53

Reuben hugged the little wooden horse close as he watched Dr Martin talking to his mother. He could see that his mother was worried because of the way she was screwing the handkerchief between her fingers and the little creases in her forehead, her eyes kept darting over to him and then back to the doctor in little nervous movements while the doctor’s voice just seemed to drone on and on.

The little boy sunk back into the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t want anyone worrying about him like this, he wasn’t worried about himself, he just felt too tired to worry until they came and stood by his bedside and started talking to him about getting better, trying to do more, doing this and doing that as if he really wanted to he could. Sofia seemed to be the only person who didn’t worry him, she just came into his bedroom, and played with her dolls quietly on the floor, chatting nonsense to him, or perhaps she would creep into bed with him and go to sleep.

He closed his eyes and thought about Billy Webb. He could remember the shock he had felt at seeing all those bruises and scars on the boys body, and how his Pa had explained that not everyone had a happy secure life like the one he had … he sighed and opened his eyes again at the touch of a cool hand on his brow.

“Ready for something to eat now, dear?” Olivia said and smiled, that gentle patient smile that made Reuben feel tight inside.

“Thank you.” he said quietly and sensed that she was pleased about that, “Mom, has it been a long time since I got shot?”

“A few weeks now.”

“Is Uncle Joe here?”

“No, dear, he and Uncle Hoss left a while ago on the cattle drive.”

“Who’s looking after Kamille and the colt?”

“Hank and several of the hands. She’s alright, she’s being well looked after. It won’t be long before you can go and see her again.” she smiled, that sudden hopeful look springing into her eyes, another straw drifting her way to clutch at and she dropped a kiss on his cheek.

He didn’t say anything just smiled and clutched the wooden horse tighter to his chest. It would wrestle in his head for a while, getting better to go and see Kamille, staying here safe and secure away from danger … away from Leslie Downing and school.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?” she was standing by the door and turned to look at him, a hopeful smile on her face as she did so.

“Have you heard from Pa yet?”

“No, not yet. He’ll be home soon.”

He didn’t answer to that, he’d heard it enough times to dismiss it as something that would happen eventually but not today, nor tomorrow … he closed his eyes and lay alone with his thoughts, the sound of birds singing drifted into his room along with the familiar sound of the yard outside.

Paul Martin stopped talking to Ben and turned to her as she entered the room, “I’m sorry, Olivia, I wish I could do something more for him, but his wound has healed well, and his vital signs are strong. I couldn’t be happier about his recovery except for the one thing …” he sighed and shook his head “It’s as if he just doesn’t want to get better.”

“He’s afraid to get better, isn’t that it?” Ben growled folding his arms across his chest and scowling darkly at the doctor who nodded and removed his spectacles as though he needed to take them off in order to look more closely at Olivia.

Sofia came and stood close to her mothers skirts, holding her new doll tightly in her arms. She looked up at the three adults and wondered why they couldn’t understand why Reuben wanted to stay in his bed. She couldn’t understand why they would want him to go to that horrible school and be shot at again by that fat Leslie boy. Why would anyone want to after being hurt, and after seeing his friends shot down as well. She turned away and ran upstairs to Reubens’ room 

“Reuben?”

“Sofia?”

She stood for a moment and looked at him thoughtfully, then walked to the window and looked out to the views beyond, she could see the chimney of Aunt Mary Anns house just peeking above the hill and if she wriggled halfway out of the window and leaned to the left she would be able to see the trees that were in the Ponderosa yard. But she didn’t lean out, she just stood there thinking about her brother.

“Reuben, Mommy wants you to get better, she’s upset.”

“I know, but I can’t get better, I’m not well.”

“Don’t you want to get better?”

He didn’t say anything to that but frowned and closed his eyes. He could hear the sound of her skirts rustling as she came near the bed and then her weight beside him “I wouldn’t want to get better and go back to that school and be shot by that fat boy again.” she rested her head on the pillow beside his, “Gran’pa says he’s in prison. Uncle Candy has locked him up real good.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t get out and get me anyway.”

“Don’t you miss going out in the sunshine though?”

“No.” he didn’t think about that, he just didn’t want to think about thinks like the sun warming his skin and making him feel like running, jumping and swimming in the river.

“You can’t go fishing.”

“I don’t want to go fishing.”

“When Daddy gets home he’ll want to go fishing with you.”

He didn’t say anything to that, he could feel her warm breath on his cheek and looked at her freckles and the blue eyes that stared at his face “Sofia, you weren’t there, you don’t understand.”

She thought she understood, but she didn’t say anything more just held her doll and lay there by his side with her eyes fixed on his face. 
……….

The Hotel Splendide looked much as it had appeared when Adam had first entered through its doors, but at least upon his initial entrance he had appeared immaculately dressed in his uniform whereas on this particular afternoon he and his three companions brought looks of horror and dismay to the faces of not only the hotels clientele but to the management and staff as well.

A hasty explanation at the managers office was sufficient for them to be led to their suite of rooms without further ado with promises of hot water for baths, a room for Mr Yates whom they recalled with a slight reluctance, and a doctor to be summoned to attend to Captain Morton. Jefferson trailed along in their wake with his head down and his thoughts upon the fickleness of fate.

Within a few hours the four men assembled in the dining room for the evening meal, Adam and Jotham in their ‘whites’, the Professor in a smart clean outfit provided by a local retailer and Mr Yates looking as though he had stepped out of a smart Saville Row, London Gentlemans Retailers. 

A short letter written to Lieutenant Beamish was sent to the Shenandoah by a very willing young man in the hotels livery, anxious to please and confident that such well attired gentlemen, particularly two officers in the American navy, would tip extravagantly. They had just sat at the table when the Maitre d’ arrived and after some polite hmming and hawing of the throat managed to convey to Adam that there was a lady wishing to speak to him.

The woman was of middle height, dark haired with deep blue eyes. She was not beautiful, but her poise was sufficient to attract attention as were her clothes. She was standing in the foyer of the hotel appearing to be deep in thought when Adam appeared. He approached and introduced himself upon which she surveyed him cautiously and then with a sigh asked if he had time to talk with her for a while. “Whom am I addressing, Madam?”

She smiled wistfully “I am the widow of Anatoly Sokolovitch, Commodore.”

He sighed inwardly but as always where women were concerned felt immediately attentive and protective. He took her elbow cupped gently in his hand and led her to a private area where they could sit together “I wasn’t aware that you knew of your husbands death, Ma’am, I am sorry. I have a friend of his here with me..”

“Yes, I am aware of that, I saw you arrive at the hotel. I know Professor Jefferson well enough to recognise him.” she sighed then, deeply, and adjusted the exquisitely embroidered jacket she was wearing, then looked at him again, “My brother, Baron Radamsky, heard about Anatoly’s death from some source, a man who had been with them … that is why he, my brother, did not accompany you into the wilderness as he had first intended. He wanted to come to me and tell me, and then wait for your return …”

“I don’t understand.” Adam murmured in a quieter tone of voice “He told us he was returning to Russia.”

She shrugged slightly, and gave a slight pout, “So he told me but is not a Russian ship considered to be Russian territory? I was waiting for him on board ship, and had expected to be waiting a very long time to be truthful, but it turned out that it was not for so long after all.” another long sigh, and she looked down at the floor, “My brother is a good man, Commodore, he was only thinking to spare me a futile wait for news that he was already knowing.”

“Your brother claimed to be working for the Russian Government …” Adam frowned, his mind recalling now the details of his conversation with the Baron all those weeks earlier.

“That is so. My Government sponsored my husband on this expedition, and my brother was the man they ordered to come here to ensure it was successful. But,” she shrugged, “it was not successful, my husband is dead, there is no victory in his death is there?”

“In what way do you mean exactly, ma’am?”

She released her breath in a long sigh and shook her head “Anatoly wanted to find the cures for all the illnesses in the world, he was convinced he would find many plants here that would lead to those cures. My Government wanted to - how do you say the word - they wanted to be able to prove to everyone they were humanitarian, wanting the best for all.” she paused then and a slight frown puckered her brow, “My brother said that you were well thought of by a friend of ours, Dimitry Doestov?”

Adams smile was brief, he nodded and narrowed his eyes “What did Dimitri have to do with all this?”

“Nothing, just a recommendation of your courage, integrity and honesty. My brother said that if anyone could find the truth of my husbands death then you would do so.” she cleared her throat and blinked moist laden eyes that now spiked her eyelashes “How did my husband die?”

“He was ill, fever ridden, and during a skirmish between the men who were with them and the Indians they were seeking, he received some injuries that led to his death.”

“And - and who told you this?”

“Professor Scolley, and Professor Jefferson.” Adam looked at her thoughtfully as she dabbed at her eyes “Professor Jefferson is here now, if you would wish to speak to him about your husband, I’m sure he would be delighted to meet you and tell you all you would wish to know.”

She said nothing for a while merely sat there with the handkerchief to her eyes staring down at the floor, then she nodded at which Adam beckoned a boy over and asked him to bring Jefferson to them.

It was a poignant meeting between a mans widow and his friend, the one confirming the sad loss to the other, both consoling and giving comfort. Adam retreated and waited nearby, until the conversation was concluded and Madam Sokolovich made her farewells, thanked Adam and was about to leave when he asked her about the time of her ships departure. She answered that it would be in the morning and upon that note she bowed her head slightly to them and made her departure.

Within the hour Sokolovitch’s note book and the sad little bundles of plants and herbs were on their way to his widow, a poignant and sad post script to his life.

 

Chapter 53

 

“Compliments of Commodore Cartwright of the United States Ship Shenandoah …”
A snappy salute and a pristine white envelope held out to the officer seated at his desk “Your orders, Captain.”

“Thank you, Ensign. If you’d just wait one moment…” a ripping of paper and then silence as the brief handwritten lines were perused, refolded and re-inserted into the envelope “Thank you, Ensign, please inform Commodore Cartwright I’ll be in his ready room at 5 bells.”

A snappy salute and Ensign Phillips left the cabin of Captain Wilson of the ship USS Agammenon.

A similar scene was being carried out on board the USS Endeavor where Captain Mayhew received his orders with a slightly grumpier response, due mainly to indigestion and nothing personal against his superior officer.


Adam ran a finger around the collar of his jacket and wondered briefly just how much weight he had lost during his weeks sojourn in the jungle, his uniform fitted loosely and he knew that his face looked haggard and sunken eyed. Lieutenant Beamish stood stiffly by the door awaiting the arrival of the two Officers while Jotham sat at the long table looking remarkably well despite the sling that supported his left arm and the bandages around his head, beneath his uniform bandages swathed various other parts of his torso but that was only for him and Eaun to know.

Adam smiled at nothing in particular as he heard the sound of voices from the corridor outside his ready room. He recalled with pride the pleasure he felt at seeing the ship in harbour awaiting his return, the greeting his men gave him when he boarded the deck, Beamish’s look of relief at seeing him in one piece as he saluted a welcome. Yes, it had all been good, and now, with Jefferson comfortably ensconced in his cabin with a guard at his door, he could really feel that this was the first step towards going home.

He turned to the door as it opened and the Captains were announced, made their salute and then stepped forward to shake the Commodore’s hand. He indicated the chairs “Please be seated, gentlemen, while we discuss our orders for the day.”

Mayhew eased into his chair, “We’re very pleased to see you, sir. Some of us had doubts that you’d get out of there alive.”

He smiled, a friendly face, an older man overdue for his retirement and he placed his cap upon the table and glanced over at Jotham whom he acknowledged with a nod of the head. Wilson shook Jothams hand, nodded at Beamish and took his seat

“Not a very comfortable assignment, Commodore, but I’m pleased to see you came out of it in better shape than Captain Morton …although you have my sympathies, Captain.” he smiled at Jotham but his grey eyes were steely.

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Adam murmured and took his seat, “I doubt if any of us would be here today if it had not been for Captain Morton’s courage and determination.. But we can talk about that over dinner. Now, let us proceed …”

He looked over at Beamish who brought over to the table a bundle of maps which were spread out flat and weighed down at the corners for the officers to look at, Adam glanced over the top one and smoothed his hand over it, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface. It was good to be here, comfortable in his ready room, men of his own kind around him, he sighed and glanced at Jotham and shared a brief smile with him before beginning “Very well, gentlemen, this is our position here….” and his finger pointed at the bay in which they were berthed…

…………..

Roy looked at the ring on his sisters’ finger and frowned, then looked at her beaming face and sighed “This really what you want?” he asked, although he really meant was Alfred Stone really the man you wanted to saddle yourself with for the remainder of your natural life?

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have said yes, would I?” she withdrew her hand and shook her head “why do you always spoil things, Roy.”

“How did I spoil anything, I simply asked you a question…”

She shrugged and muttered beneath her breath before leaving the room leaving her brother regarding the empty space where she had been standing with a bemused expression on his face. He shook his head, something he just knew for sure, wasn’t right. He sat down in his old chair and half closed his eyes, there was something he remembered from some time back, someone he recalled from way back then… he stood up and brushed his hands down his shirt front and walked over to his desk which he unlocked and after a moments scrabbling about he found what he was looking for, a small book which contained notes from various incidents in which he had been involved over the years.

Once upon a time he had met a man called Samuel Clemens, now known as Mark Twain, and he had been fired up by the mans enthusiasm for writing stories, it had been this Sam Clemens who had told him about the Cartwrights of Virginia City, which had led to his eventual arrival in the town as their lawman. But the advice Sam had given him had been good and that had been write down anything and everything that would make up a good story, the most mundane lives could always provide some small nugget of gold one day.

He scratched his nose and turned the pages and then paused, well, there it was, this one small morsel of gold, he jotted down the name and tucked the piece of paper into his pocket. Upstairs in her room Rachel turned her hand too and fro to catch the light upon her ring and see it flashing, she heard the sound of the door closing, the picket gate snapping shut and leaning over to look out of the window watched as her brother strolled into town.

Eddy took the message Roy had written down and tapped out the words which sent the little note winging its way to Placerville. He smiled “Do you want to wait for a reply, Sheriff…I mean.. Mr Coffee?”

“No, I’ll come on by for it later on.” Roy nodded and smiled, flattered at being remembered as the sheriff even if it no longer applied. He went out and stood on the sidewalk for a moment to survey the town and then took himself off to see Candy.
…….

Widow Hawkins listened in amazement as Mrs Garston and Lucy related what they had seen the previous evening. The elderly widow shook her head “She’s only known the man a matter of weeks.”

“Probably afraid he’ll do a runner on her if she said no.” Mrs Garston sniffed and Lucy nodded thoughtfully, “He’s not even good looking, and the amount of cologne he splashes on. He must bath in it, my dear.”

Bridie strolled up and looked at them anxiously “Is everything alright, ladies?”

Mrs Garston stuck her nose in the air “I was just telling them about Mrs Darrow. The latest developments.” she nodded significantly and fluttered her eyelashes.

Lucy smiled at Bridie in case she hadn’t picked up on her mother’s attempts to signify that there was ‘big news’ to divulge “Mrs Darrow has got engaged to Mr Stone.”

Bridie felt awkward, she knew these ladies may well have reacted in much a similar way to her own swift engagement and marriage to Paul, yet at the same time she couldn’t see that Rachel Darrow had made a wise choice. She just stood in silence for a moment and then nodded and walked on, Mrs Garston sniffed loudly “Well, there you are then, that sums it all up, doesn’t it.”

Lucy looked at her mother blankly “What do you mean?”

Widow Hawkins shook her head and patted Lucy on the shoulder “Mrs Martin agrees with us but didn’t like to say so because …”

“Oh yes, of course.” Lucy nodded, she smiled “Of course.”

The three of them exchanged smiles and then parted to ‘spread the good news.’

……..

Norman Evans looked around the room and hugged the clean towels to his chest anxiously. He gulped slightly, he really hadn’t expected to be feeling so nervous as he carefully closed the door behind him and forced his feet to move across the thickly carpeted floor.  He had felt quite confident on the landing, but nerves hit him as soon as he had crossed the threshold to begin his investigation.

He had decided on this course of action only an hour earlier when he had seen Mr Stone leave the hotel. A good lawman goes into action, not hesitating if he needed to find clues. No one else seemed interested in what he had to say, so that meant he had to look for some indication of something suspicious that would back up his story. He took a deep breath and began to look more closed around the room.

The smell of cologne drifted around the air, and he shook his head in distaste as he moved from the sitting area to the bedroom. There was a different smell here, he sniffed, wrinkled his nose, there was the smell of the cologne but something else as well. He approached the dressing table and looked at the array of bottles and pots then with a shake of the head turned to the wardrobes and opened the doors. 

Now there was another surprise, quite a sizeable range of clothings, suits and jackets and pants ..on the left were clothes to fit a big man, but on the right were clothes to fit a far slimmer man. He stared at them and struggled to find the significance of what this could be telling him, then he looked back to the dressing table and looked at what he saw there, he shook his head doubtfully. Perhaps if he told Sheriff Canaday, or even Roy, they would understand what this all meant.

He turned to go and stopped dead in his tracks. Alfred Stone smiled “Well, good day to you, Norman. And what can I do for you today?”

Norman gulped “Er - clean towels Mr Stone. Management likes to make sure the linen is changed regularly.”

“Really?”

Norman nodded, he nodded so hard it was a wonder his head didn’t drop off.

………..

Cheng Ho Lee approached the bed and looked at the boy, he nodded and smiled “You feel good now?”

“Not really.” Reuben said pushing aside the book he had been reading.

“Legs weak?”

“They feel wobbly. My head aches.”

“Cheng Ho Lee think may have good idea.”

“Really?” Reuben blinked, he wondered if Cheng Ho Lee’s good idea would remove the nightmares he had every night, the constancy of seeing Jamie Watt fall at his feet with the blood spurting out over his, Reuben’s, boots, and the way Leslie Downing stared at him with the gun aimed at him.

“Yes. Weak legs need exercise.”

“But I can’t stand on them, Cheng Ho Lee. They keep bending too much.”

“I show how you exercise bendy legs.” the Chinese bowed and began to peel back the covers, Reuben shivered as the air touched his body and the warmth of the bedding left him, he looked up into the face of his father’s friend and their cook, and noticed grim determination in those sloe black eyes. “Now,” Cheng Ho Lee raised one finger and pointed to the ceiling which Reuben looked up at until he realised that Cheng was meaning, not the ceiling, but that this was item 1 on a list of who knew how many more fingers … he closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate.

………….

The three ships …The Shenandoah, Agammenon and Endeavor left the bay in Brazil in graceful formation, with the Shenandoah in the lead followed by the two other ships flanking her. At the bridge of each one stood their commanding officers. Their orders had been simple and direct but could be simply summed up in to several words… they were heading for home. The Agammenon would eventually peel away from the convoy and continue on to San Francisco where it would deliver its mail bags from the other two ships. Long awaited letters would be posted from various mail depots in the city to wing their way homewards while the other ships continued onwards towards Washington.


Roy Coffee read the cable and frowned, nodded to himself and then released his breath in a long sigh. “Anything wrong, sir?” Eddy asked

“Not really, nothing I hadn’t expected.” Roy replied glumly and tucked the cable into his pocket. It had been a list of items that an elderly lady had once possessed and had been given to a younger man some years previously, before he had attempted to murder her, before he had been arrested and jailed for the murder of one other.

Cheng Ho Lee massaged the thin little legs with the oil that smelled so pleasant and was cooling to the skin. His slender fingers kneaded and pressed, bent and twisted, until Reuben fell asleep. The exercise wasn’t that invigorating, he hadn’t had to leave his bed at all, he had simply relaxed, enjoyed it and gone to sleep.

In the kitchen of the Ponderosa Hop Sing peeled the vegetables for the main meal, he wondered how his friend Cheng Ho Lee was getting on with the ‘exercises’ that they had devised between them. He had cleaned up the wheelchair that Mr Adam and Little Joe had used at various times in their lives, but that was for later … probably stage 3 of the enterprise.

 

Chapter 55

President Hayes looked up as Senator Evarts entered the office, he frowned slightly as he had hoped not to be disturbed for a few more hours but seeing that the man was there he knew it would be foolish to turn him away. Evarts was a man who was always on a mission, miss the opportunity to talk to him when he was present and before you knew it he was away somewhere else and the chance to find out what he wanted was gone.

Evarts put down the folder with the red letters ‘Classified information’ stamped on the front and proceeded to sit down at the desk. Both men looked at the folder and then looked up at one another, Hayes nodded “Well?”

“The Jefferson matter, Mr President.”

Hayes winced, he hadn’t wanted to be reminded of Sackville Jeffersons death nor of Howard Jeffersons involvement in it. He sighed and fingered one corner of the file before pushing it slightly to the left of him “Any further developments?”

“Mrs Jefferson is still protesting her innocence along with that of her brother in law.”

“Any news about him? Has - who did we send to get him? - found him yet?”

“Commodore Cartwright,” Evarts paused, recalling now how he had insisted on referring to Adam as Captain, a matter of current procedure when only one ship was involved, “And Captain Morton.”

“Reliable men?” Hayes asked trying to remember them, there were so many names, so many ranks and military operatives to think about when taking on this new office. 

“Very reliable, Mr President.” Evarts tried to recall what the men looked like and what the report on them both were, he was loath to nudge the President to open the file because it was obvious Hayes didn’t want to, instead he kept flicking the corner of it in an absent minded way.

“Remind me where they were going .. Where Howard had gone?”

Evarts sighed and placed a hand on the folder which stopped Hayes from creasing the corner beyond repair and making the man realise the information was all there, at his finger tips for him to look at whenever he chose. Hayes nodded “Very good, and what is the latest?”

“We’ve not heard from them since they went into the wilderness, Mr President.”

“Looking for diamond mines and lost cities….” Hayes mused and smiled vaguely, he nodded “Yes, I remember now, so Matilda still maintains that Sackville was killed by accident?”

“Yes Mr President.”

Hayes nodded “Very good, thank you Evarts… I’ll read through the file and give you my opinion later.”

Evarts recognised his dismissal when he heard it and rose to his feet, nodded and bade the President his farewell. He thought of Sackville Jefferson as he left the room and shrugged slightly, if ever a man deserved to ‘be disposed of’ then Sackville Jefferson was the one. He was more than grateful that he had ‘died’ before the election otherwise his demands would have been overwhelming, and, considering what he knew about certain ones in Government, many of t hose demands would have been met which would not have suited Evarts and his policy makers one bit.

……….

Euan MacPherson handed his Captain the report he had written up on his patients and watched as Adam glanced through it. He observed his first officer with a somewhat critical eye before saying in a rather ‘tongue in cheek’ manner that he would like to have the opportunity of now conducting just as thorough an examination upon him.

Adam smiled slowly before turning another page and without looking up at the Doctor said that there was no need, he was in good health.

“That may be your opinion, Captain, but it isn’t a medical one and as ships’ Doctor it is my responsibility to carry out an examination on you as well as your crew members to ensure the safety of this ship.”

“Ah, so it’s the safety of this ship about which you are mostly concerned, Dr, and not my health at all.” Adam observed as he turned over another page and sighed as he ran his eye down the list of patients “Several men with fevers? Nothing too serious?”

“If you’re reading the report, Captain, you’ll see that I’ve already noted the cause of the fevers, their duration, and expected recovery.”

“Duly noted, Doctor, my apologies for such an inane comment.” Adam smiled again and then handed the notes to the other man with a slight shrug of the shoulders, “Dengue fever is incurable, you know that?”

“I do, and I assure you none of my patients are suffering from dengue fever, malaria or any other kind of swamp fever that this hell hole can throw at us.”

“So you’re happy to be leaving…”

“More than happy.” Euan said and slowly sunk down on the chair opposite Adam who was now seated and looking thoughtfully at the port hole through which the sky and sea appeared to meet, “what’s on your mind?”

“Oh I was thinking of Qu’an.”

“Qu’an… who or what is Qu’an?”

“An Indian of the Terina tribe, he was a really loyal friend out there on that journey. I just feel that I didn’t let him know how much he was appreciated, we all owed him so much.”

“I’m sure he would have realised that, Captain.” Euan said in a rather indifferent tone of voice which caused Adam to look at him again with a sterner countenance.

“We’d not have survived that journey without his help. I asked him once why he was so willing to help us -” he paused and stroked his upper lip with his forefinger, his brows contracted and the dark eyes became hooded

“And what did he say?”

“That he owed a debt which needed to be repaid.”

“Ah well then, not so much out of friendship or personal loyalty then if a debt was involved.” Euan looked over at the door which had opened to admit Ames who was bringing in refreshment.

“He repaid it a hundred fold.” Adam replied wearily and nodded his thanks to his steward as he accepted the cup of coffee.

Euan said nothing but took a cup and sipped at the coffee appreciatively “Captain Morton is doing very well now, most of his wounds were superficial, if he had been in a more decent climate he would not have been so debilitated.”

“Hmm,” Adam nodded and his mind travelled back to that dug out canoe, the alligators and the piranha, the anaconda’s ..he blanched slightly and hastily gulped down more of the coffee.

“You’ve lost too much weight, and your skin looks unhealthy.”

“I know, but some good food and a brisk walkabout on deck regularly and I’ll soon be as usual.”

“I could insist…” Euan raised his eyebrows and gave Adam the benefit of a long hard look which caused Adam to shake his head with a smile, 

“Please don’t, just concentrate on those who are really ill. How’s our guest?”

“Professor Jefferson? Jaundiced of course, due to the weather and the heat and the lack of proper food. Liverish as a result as well. Apart from that he’s in good shape.”

Adam nodded and finished his coffee, he stretched out his legs and then asked Euan to give an account of how the weeks had gone for him, how had the crew been, was Lieutenant Beamish a capable first officer? Euan launched into a narrative of long weeks in conditions not fit for any sensible man to live in, with a bad tempered first officer who lacked self confidence and refused to listen to any advice from anyone while crew men were falling ill with fever and goodness knows what else …by the time he had finished speaking Adam was asleep.
………..

Howard Jefferson was more than pleased to be allowed the freedom of the quarter deck to walk about for an hour a day. The weather was good, a fine south westerly blew warm and the sea was reasonably calm.

His existence as a prisoner under guard, as regulations insisted, were improved by the supply of books to read that were sent to him by the Captain and which he gratefully read several times over before returning. The doctor had given him a thorough examination and provided some medication that after a few days had a good effect upon him as his health, which he had assumed to have been tolerably good, improved. 

After a week at sea Adam paid him a visit in his quarters in the brig. The two men regarded one another without speaking for a moment or two before Adam expressed the hope that the other man was comfortable.

“As comfortable as a man can be in these conditions, Captain.” Jefferson replied with a wry smile.

He rather liked the look of the officer now standing before him looking so different from the bedraggled individual who had appeared out of the jungle to arrest him and take him back to America. The uniform, although it didn’t hang so well on a thinner frame than the one it was tailored to fit, looked smart enough to give him an air of authority ..Adam smiled “Do I pass ’muster’, Professor?”

“You certainly do, Captain. I would never have guessed you for the same man who appeared before me not so long ago …” he sighed, “It was hard for me to leave that place. There is still so much to discover, to catalogue and consider. Even now I can’t stop thinking about what we have learned, Scolley is good in his field but he needs a more disciplined associate to keep things in order and to stretch his mind on certain aspects of our discoveries.”

“Perhaps you will be able to get back there soon, Professor.”

“Ah, well, the key word in that sentence is, of course, ’perhaps’. I don’t take anything for granted, Captain, I know my brothers friends well enough to realise that there is more to this so called arrest that even you could know.”

“Politics, Professor, is a dirty business, I’ve never thought anything otherwise …”

“Well, you’re right, it is a dirty business, and some who deal in it are dirtier than others. My brother was - “ he paused, then sighed and shook his head, “There’s no point in talking to you about it, there’s nothing you can do in the circumstances.” he began to pace the floor for a while, his head downcast and his eyes fixed to the ground “Did you ever meet Matilda?”

“No, the letter was given me by a friend of hers.”

Jefferson nodded, “At least she still has friends, but then she was a woman who did inspire loyalty. My brother didn’t deserve such a woman, she was 100% loyal to him, despite the foul things he was involved in, the things he did.”

Adam watched him for a moment or two before asking if there was anything he could do to help the Professor endure his confinement more comfortably. “I would like to have some company, if you wouldn’t mind, Captain. Someone to play a game of chess perhaps?”

Adam nodded “I shall see what I can do.” 

“When we get to Washington, where will you be taking me?”

“I won’t be taking you anywhere, Professor. Government officials will come to take you from my custody and that’s where we part company.”

Jefferson nodded and sighed a deep long sigh of misery “I didn’t do it, you know. I didn’t kill him.”

“I believe you, but you have to convince a Judge and jury I’m afraid.”

“Yes, if it comes to that.”

Adam looked at him sharply, his tone of voice implied darker events ahead which Adam didn’t feel comfortable with at all, “What exactly are you implying, sir?”

Howard shrugged “Nothing, it hardly matters, not to you anyway. You and Captain Morton have done what you have been assigned to do and that’s really where your responsibility towards me ends, doesn’t it?”

Adam nodded slowly although his eyes never left Jefferson’s face and read within it the mans thoughts that life was going to be far shorter than any of them may have anticipated.

 

Chapter 56

The knocking on the door seemed to echo throughout the house bringing Olivia hurrying from the small room where she had been nursing the baby. Having settled him into his crib she was still buttoning up her blouse when she reached the door and flung it open with a smile of greeting on her face. The smile faded rapidly however when she saw who stood on her threshold and glancing from one to the other of the formidable couple she waited for them to speak. It was Mr Downing who addressed her, removing his hat as he did so and obviously struggling to frame the right words to suit the occasion

“I know this may seem very tactless on our part, Mrs Cartwright, but we really do need to talk to you.”

“But, Mr Downing, I really have no desire to speak to you,” Olivia replied feeling embarrassed as she felt the colour slowly mantling her cheeks.

Mrs Downing stepped forward slightly so that she was placed just a little ahead of her husband “Please, Mrs Cartwright, please …”

Mrs Downing was a woman as large as her husband, but over the past few weeks the firmness of her plumpness had faded, her skin resembled that of a withering apple, her eyes sunken into their sockets, and her lips dry and colourless. If grief had touched Olivia it had been kindly, but with Mrs Downing it had been more than cruel. The ravages of her despair were sufficient for Olivia to step to one side and allow them admittance into her home.

Mr Downing glanced around the room as though in anticipation of being ambushed by concealed relatives of the woman they were visiting, but seeing that the room was empty he straightened his back and looked at Olivia with the curious ambivalence of emotions flickering across his features. It was obvious that the prime motivator of the visit was his wife, who stood restlessly fidgeting with her purse while she waited for him to speak.

“How - how is the little fellow?” the wretched man asked in a voice that he hoped sounded compassionate but to Olivia’s ears was nothing less than patronising.

“If you mean my son, Reuben, Mr Downing, then please say so.”

“Yes, of course, Reuben … how is he? Is he - is he improving now?”

Mrs Downing interrupted “It has been some weeks, we thought, perhaps he would be feeling stronger now.”

“Reuben -” she paused and struggled for a moment to find the right words, “I’m sorry, I really don’t understand why you’re here. I can’t believe for a moment that you ‘re here out of concern for my son. So, if you don’t mind, I would rather you just say what you really came to see me about and then go.”

Downings lips tightened, his small eyes narrowed and he glanced angrily at his wife as though to say ‘There you are, I told you it was useless to come here.’

Mrs Downing only raised her chins slightly higher “I can understand how you feel, really I do, Mrs Cartwright. This has been a terrible situation for us all, but - but you see I - I really - really wanted to say how sorry we are about it all, about what happened to Reuben and the other children.” she gulped back tears, then pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes “Leslie swears that he didn’t mean to harm them, he didn’t know the gun was loaded, he keeps saying that he didn’t …”

“He did, he did,” the shrill voice of a child broke through the womans speech, “he did mean it too, and he did know it was loaded.”

The three adults turned to look at the boy who was seated in the wheelchair his eyes far too large for his face, the pale skin taut over the high cheekbones. Sofia was standing beside him, her hand on the armrest while she hugged one of her dolls under her free arm.

Mrs Downing stepped forward “No, no, Reuben, no, you’ve got it all wrong. He didn’t know …”

“He did.” Reuben insisted and glanced with anguished eyes at his mother before looking back at the two Downings “I saw him shoot Jamie and then David, and then he looked aright at me, and I knew he was going to shoot me too, that’s why I ran away, but then - then he -” it was too much, the tears welled up and spilled over so that Olivia hurried over to him and knelt beside him, whispering reassurances in order to calm him.

Mr Downing sighed heavily then shook his head “Useless, absolutely useless coming here to plead for any compassion and mercy from you that’s obvious.”

Olivia turned instantly and stood up to glare at them “Compassion? Mercy? What compassion and mercy did your son show those boys, and my son?”

“Please, Mrs Cartwright,” Mrs Downing sobbed, “Leslie is just a little boy too…”
“May be so, but your little boy is and always has been a bully, and if you had both taken him in check then what took place the other week would never have happened.”

“Are you insinuating that - that we’re to blame?” Downing shouted 

“Your son, Mr Downing, obviously takes after you. Good day to you…” Olivia grabbed at the door and pulled it open wide enough to indicate it was time for them to leave.

Downing strode out cursing and swearing while his wife faltered at the door, she turned her sad face to Olivia “Mrs Cartwright, as a mother yourself …” she blinked, fresh tears seeped from her eyes, “I have no right to encroach upon your time, I know that, I know … but I wanted you to know that I’m so sorry, so very sorry… and that …it’s hard for us as well. My husbands a proud man, and this has hit him hard, harder than you may realise.”

She stared mutely into Olivia’s face and then lowered her eyes and shook her head with a deep sigh “I can’t change what has happened, I wish I could, but sheriff Canaday says the Circuit Judge will be here in a few weeks. They won’t let Leslie out of jail, you know …” again the mute look of appeal and then the tears as she lowered her head “They won’t let him home, even though my husband is prepared to pay any size bail they set.”

Olivia said nothing, her heart was touched by the woman’s tears, as a mother she sympathised, but her mind told her that facts were facts, and if Candy wasn’t prepared to allow the boy out of the cells then he had a good reason for so doing. She put her hand lightly on Mrs Downings arm “I do feel for you, Mrs Downing, I truly do, as you say, being a mother myself one can’t help but sympathise with the pain you must be feeling now. But … but there’s nothing I can do to help you when …” she glanced over at Reuben and Sofia before returning to look at the other woman, “Good bye, Mrs Downing.”

She stood at the doorway and watched as they made their way to the buggy, shook her head slightly and then quickly closed the door before turning to her children, hurried over to them and kneeling beside the wheelchair encircled them both in her arms in a close embrace as though only by doing so could she protect them from further harm.

………..

Roy Coffee glanced over at his sister and frowned, then looked over at the clock on the wall, “Aren’t you going out tonight?”

“No, Alfred has had to go to Placerville on business. He won’t be back until Friday.” she stabbed a needle into her tapestry and pulled through some thread, “He’s a very busy man.”

“Really“.” Roy muttered with a touch of sarcasm in his voice, “I thought from something he said that he had retired from business?” but Rachel continued to smile complacently as she inserted the needle once again into her sewing. “Rachel, I know you feel that I am some kind of an old fool…”

“I never said so, brother.” she replied sweetly although she didn’t look at him at all.

“Well, some things don’t have to be said.” Roy replied matter of factly, before he continued “I don’t like this Alfred Stone of yours.”

She said nothing but rather primly pursed her lips, the needle remained poised in thin air, before she lowered her arm and continued with her sewing. Roy cleared his throat “I feel there’s something about him that puts you in a lot of danger.”

“Nonsense, you’re just talking a load of rubbish, Roy.” her sallow cheeks reddened and her eyes hardened. “What kind of danger do you mean anyway?”

Roy scratched his head and wondered for a moment if he had left it too late for her to be reasonable were he to explain his fears now. He looked at the ring sparkling on her finger and then at her face, so pretty once upon a time in her youth, and still attractive despite the sadnesses she had endured during her life, he approached her and put his hand on her shoulder “Rachel, Alfred Stone is not the man you believe he is, and I accept the fact that you think that you love him, and that he loves you but … “

“Are you jealous, Roy? Is that it? A man comes along and loves me enough to want to marry me, a man who has worked hard all his life, and now wants to settled down and provide for me… you’re jealous because he still has his good looks, he’s wealthy and he has romance in his soul…”

“For goodness sake, woman, he has no more romance in his soul than the man in the moon” Roy snapped angrily, “All he’s interested in is romancing you in order to get close to me -”

“What?” her horror and amazement couldn’t have been greater, the needle stabbed into her finger and she gave a gasp as it did so “Look at what you made me do, you meddling silly little man.” she got up from her seat, pushed him away and looked at her finger upon which a bead of blood was forming “Don’t you dare say another word about him. Don’t you dare.”

“Lan’sakes, woman…” Roy cried as his sister turned and ran from the room, the door slammed hard enough to make the pictures on the wall swing back and forth, while he stared at it as though seeing it for far more than the barrier it presented between himself and his sister.

……………….

Norman Evans’ mother looked at the clock on the wall of the little parlour in the home she shared with him. She had been a widow for nearly ten years now and Norman was her only son, her pride and joy. Like many lonely children Norman had grown to be an accommodating son, a young man who never gave her a moments anxiety … until now. 

She looked at the plates and cutlery on the table and then at the clock again. Norman was late, and not by just a few moments which can happen after all due to some errand or other at the hotel, but by a full hour. That was something unheard of, Norman was never as late as an hour knowing that his mother would fret over every minute of it. He was that dear a son to her, considering her every feeling which revolved entirely around him.

She sat down and forced herself not to look at the clock again, not until it struck the next hour.

………

Finding a body is never pleasant. Well, it just isn’t something that many people actually do, that is, find a real body … dead and rather gruesomely so at that with the eyes distended in horror as though still seeing who had drawn the knife and thrust it into their vital organs. 

The young couple had sat down on the bank of the river to watch the reflection of the stars in the dark mirror of the water - that’s what they said in their statement to the sheriff later anyway - but as she stretched out a hand to recline further upon the bank, it touched something cold, something not very pleasant and when she looked she found her hand resting upon the cheek of a person she recognised as Norman Evans. It’s just that he didn’t really look like Norman Evans now, not the Norman she knew who had worked alongside her at the hotel for several years, he looked decidedly very unpleasant.

Chapter 57

There was no getting away from the fact that the man was ill. The jaundice and liverish condition of Profession Jefferson, noticed by Eaun, when they had first boarded had developed into a fever that the ships doctor pronounced as malaria. The diagnosis was given with some uncertainty but the treatment the patient was given was excellent, Eaun was a truly compassionate doctor and for that Jefferson had to be truly grateful.

When Adam entered the cabin that had been allocated to him, Jefferson made some attempt to sit up, but failed to do so, sinking back against the pillows with a sigh and a trembling of his limbs that caused Adam to look reproachfully at Eaun as though the younger man were the cause of the Professors condition. “He’s been ill for a long time,” Eaun whispered, “I’m not saying that as an excuse for not diagnosing this earlier, merely stating the fact as he told me.”

“Is that true, Professor Jefferson?” Adam asked as he pulled up a chair upon which he seated himself by the mans bedside

“Yes, yes, off and on for some months, managed to keep it at bay thanks to Anatoly but since he died -” he waved a feeble hand as though the rest of what he wanted to say was unnecessary.

Adam leaned back against the chair and looked thoughtfully at the other man before looking at Euan “Just how bad is it?”

MacPherson shook his head “There’s not much more I can do for him… except keep him clean and comfortable. His constitution has weakened by continually fighting it off without proper medication for so long. If he had only said something when he came on board…”

“You’re the doctor, you shouldn’t have had to be told.” Adam snapped angrily, and shook his head as though he was past patience with the man, he looked again at Jefferson, “I had a message to say you wanted to talk to me in private.”

“Yes, your steward very kindly said he would let you know I needed to speak to you, and perhaps, Captain Morton.” Jefferson closed his eyes, the effort to keep them open was tiring him, so he was ignorant of Eaun leaving the cabin and his place being taken by Jotham.

“What do you want to say, Professor?” Adam asked gently as he placed a hand upon Jefferson’s shoulder and felt the burning flesh through the cloth of the shirt the man was wearing.

“Is Captain Morton here, Commodore?”

“I am.” Jotham said in his deep voice.

“I want to tell you about my brother, so that you would understand…”

“Why you killed him?” Jotham asked, stepping closer to the sick mans’s bed.

“No. So that you could understand why some people would be glad he was dead, but not want too much attention paid to it.” Jefferson sighed and indicated by a wave of the hand that he need to sit up in order to see them and speak.

Once the pillows had been positioned in a way that would not make sitting uncomfortable Howard Jefferson looked seriously at them both before he began to speak, mentioning immediately that he was not about to make a death bed confession to a crime and then he explained once again how Sackville Jefferson died, in the struggle between them while he, Sackville, had a knife in his hand and with it, either fell upon it or stabbed himself with it.

“Matilda came into the room as a result of the noise of the fight, but Sackville was already dead by then. Niether of us is guilty of any crime. It was mere chance and unforeseen occurrence as the good book tells us happens… the knife could just as easily been stuck into me, which was Sackville’s intention when he grabbed it.”

There was a pause, neither Adam nor Jotham were inclined to speak, but waited for Howard to continue with what he had to say… after some seconds had passed the Professor opened his eyes and looked at them, first one and then the other, “I want you to be witnesses of what I am saying. It’s possible that you may never need to repeat what I say to anyone, in fact, it may be wiser if you never said a word - but I need you to know so that you will understand should anything - strange - happen in the future.”

“Strange? In what way do you mean?” Jotham demanded rather impatiently, a little too much so for Adam raised a hand to signal him to calm down.

“Have you ever heard of the Hellfire Club?” 

“The what?” Jotham glanced over at Adam who looked mystified, as an introduction to a confession or statement it was a strange question and at the lack of a response Howard sighed and closed his eyes as though mustering up the strength to explain for himself.

“The Hellfire Club was the name given to clubs held during the last century in Britain and Ireland by the very worse kind of men. Rich men, involved in politics mostly, and usually from the aristocracy … they were depraved immoral assemblies where these men would meet to carry out the worst possible crimes. Because of their positions in politics and society they felt themselves immune to any form of punishment. The worst was the one established by Sir Francis Dashwood during the 1750’s and 60’s.”

He paused and gratefully accepted some water from the glass Adam held to his lips, “My brother was fascinated by the history of these clubs, and formed such a one himself. Men who are now prominent in our country’s politics, in society, in industry, were happy to be members along with him. I doubt if any one of them would want it known now and …and if it happens that I am brought to trial …” his voice faded and he sighed, “Well, there would be some who would prefer that it did not.”

“Your sister in law, did she know about these clubs?” Adam asked quietly and the man on the bed shook his head,

“No, Matilda was - is - an innocent. I have no idea as to why anyone would want to involve her in this so called ‘murder’ when she wasn’t even in the room when the struggle between us took place.”

Jotham and Adam looked at one another as though unsure as to how to now proceed, it was Adam who asked Howard why he felt it necessary to mention it to which the poor man said he had thought he had already made it quite clear. Jotham cleared his throat “Not clear enough, I’m afraid.”

“My brother was blackmailing some of those men who are so active in Government now, when he died they must have been delighted at having had such a pain in their sides removed at last. For some reason, I don’t know what, or how, but they want to make sure - perhaps - that anyone involved with my brother who may know, have the faintest clue - should be removed, but -”

“A murder trial will hardly remove information it will only bring it to everyone’s attention.” Adam murmured.

“Yes, yes, that’s right - but if the accused are removed before there is a trial - do you see? Do you understand?”

Adam said nothing but sat very still, tapping his mouth with his forefinger as though the need to consider what had been said needed time and attention. Jotham began to pace the cabin, back and forth, before he stopped and looked thoughtfully down at the man on the bed “Is this what you think could happen?”

Jefferson smiled coldly, a smile that spoke volumes “I know it can, people in high positions can’t afford to - to have people like me and Matilda around to be a reminder of their past infamous deeds.” he heaved a sigh and closed his eyes “I suppose it all sounds rather melodramatic, to you, perhaps …” 

“What do you want of us? What can we do?” Adam asked, leaning in closely towards the man in the bed who gave the slightest of shrugs and whispered “I don’t know what you can do, except help Matilda, keep her safe.”

“But if she knows …” Jotham said to which Jefferson replied with heartbreaking earnestness “She knows nothing about it, nothing at all.”

Adam stood up, placed a hand on Jeffersons’ shoulder and told him to sleep, that he had said all there was to say, now he had to get himself well. With a brisk nod of the head he indicated to Jotham that they left the cabin, by the time the door closed Professor Howard Jefferson was sound asleep.

It wasn’t until they were in Adams quarters that Jotham asked Adam what was to be done about the man, and about the information he had passed onto them. Adam shook his head “I don’t know, Jotham. It feels like an almighty big albatross has just been hung around our necks, doesn’t it?”

He sat down behind his desk and stared over at the younger man who shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, before admitting that he found the whole thing hard to believe only to hear Adam say that he had heard of such clubs, such activities, but only whispered about years ago when he was a student in Boston

“You mean, you really believe him?” Jotham asked with his face looking slightly strained, he shook his head “I find it all rather fanciful, unbelievable.”

Adam nodded “I agree, but there are some things in life that do appear unbelievable. While people accept that to be so, they don’t look any further into matters that appear to be that way, and as a result evil perpetuates without justice.”

“I understand that view of it, but at the same time Professor Jefferson is expecting us to believe some very unpleasant things …evil things as you put it … from some of our superiors.”

Adam frowned and opened his desk drawer from which he withdrew a file, this he placed on the desk and without looking at Jotham asked him if he even believed that Jefferson was innocent of his brother’s death. Jotham raised his eyebrows, paused to think for a moment and then said that he wasn’t sure, but that he was only obeying orders anyway so it wasn’t for him to judge.

“I’m not asking you to do so,” Adam responded with heavy emphasis on his words “Tell me, what precisely were you ordered to do?”

“In this case?” Jotham grimaced as though he found it strange to be asked this question when the matter had been dealt with now, “I was ordered to locate and then arrest Professor Jefferson for the murder of his brother, Sackville Jefferson and then to turn him over to you in order for you to transport him back to America.”

“Is that the precise wording of your order?”

Jotham stared at Adam for a second before he gave a slight shrug of the shoulders, his injured arm caused him to wince by doing so but he replied quietly “Yes, to locate him and arrest him…”

“Were you not also to ensure whether he was in fact dead or alive?”

Jotham gave a slight laugh “But that’s obvious… if he was dead the case was closed, but if alive then to arrest him and bring him back to your ship to be transported back to America.”

“Nothing else?”

“No, my responsibility to him was at an end when I handed him over to yourself.”

Adam nodded “Very good, thank you, Jotham.” he looked thoughtfully down at the file and raised his eyebrows “I have to deliver him - dead or alive - but somehow or other, I get the distinct feeling that it would be preferred if he arrived - dead.”

Jotham shivered, and passed a nervous hand across his mouth “I hate to admit it, Adam, but I was thinking the same thing.”

“And by passing on this information - if it is true - then Professor Jefferson passes on the danger to us.”

Jotham stared into Adam’s brown eyes and then turned away “That, sir, is not a comforting thought at all.”

Chapter 58

It was happening all over again … the boys cold eyes in that round smooth face staring at him, the gun raised and the knowledge those eyes contained that sent adrenalin pulsing through the younger boys veins, propelling him to move as fast as he ever could and not even feeling the slap of the bullet in his body, nor the warm gush of blood flowing down his clothing.

“Ma. Ma.” he turned and twisted, the clothing was suffocating him all over again, he couldn’t breathe and the horror was that when he opened his eyes there was Leslie Downing staring down at him, gloating, a smile widening his fat lips so that they stretched across his teeth and he was laughing, even as he aimed the gun another time “Ma. Ma.”

He couldn’t see, he couldn’t feel anything other than t he panic that was choking him, he wanted to cry, but he couldn’t catch his breath to do so, all he could do was gasp and heave for air so that when hands finally reached out and touched him he screamed.

Olivia bowed her head and closed her eyes as she kept one hand on Reuben’s shoulder and covered her face with the other. She was exhausted with the worry of this child, from the care of the baby, from the demands of her daughter, and now with Downings visit had come the nightmares, the screaming at night which, at times, woke the baby.

“Reuben, Reuben darling, wake up, come on now, wake up.”

He struggled to let go of the dream, it wasn’t clear really whether the dream possessed him or he the dream, but finally he opened his eyes and leaned into her to sob until he was too tired to sob any more. She stroked his back and his hair while all the time whispering endearments, and reassurances that she was there, she would never leave him, he was quite safe.

“Why did they come, Ma? Why did they come?” he finally whispered as he felt the cool air touch his burning skin.

“Probably to reassure themselves that you were alright.” she replied and kissed his brow, “That’s all, they were concerned for you.”

“Will they tell him?” his voice wavered, “They will, won’t they?”

She sighed and looked down at the frightened little face staring up at her, then she cupped her hands around his face and looked into his eyes from which tears trickled “It doesn’t matter if they do tell him, he can’t do anything to you, Reuben, he’s locked up in a cell and Candy won’t let him go. You’re safe, you’re here, with us.”

“They said he didn’t know the gun was loaded but that was a lie, he did know.”

“Yes, sweetheart, he did, but-”

“Why did they lie? Do they want me to lie as well?”

She wiped a tear from his cheek and smiled down at him although her throat was tight as she spoke “Reuben, you know that we wouldn’t want you to lie, you have to tell the truth always. Always.”

“But - I’m scared.”

“There’s nothing to be scared about, darling, nothing. All you have to do is go and walk into that courtroom and tell the truth.”

Reuben looked at her, his eyes flicked away and stared at the corner of the room, ‘walk’ she had said, but how could he? How could he walk into the room, any room, ever again?

“But .. But I … I can’t.” he stammered and moved back as though to get away from her now, as though the comfort she had brought was now insufficient, something he no longer needed or desired.

“Reuben, my dear boy, look at me now…” she gave him the slightest of shakes, just enough to reinforce the fact that she needed him to pay her attention. “When we moved to the little house in the woods, with gran’ma, do you remember what it was like?”

“Ye-es” he looked doubtful, wondering what she was intending to say with this talk about the Double D. 

“And do you remember that time when Adam was ill? He was found by Matt who brought him to our house … do you remember?”

He frowned, a vague memory stirred, it wasn’t really that long ago but life had been so full of adventures since then, rather than say anything he nodded and waited for her to continue.

“The reason he was ill was because of the injury he had to his leg. It was a very severe burn, Reuben, and it caused him a great deal of pain..”

“… but he could still walk on it, couldn’t he?” he interrupted her, hoping to divert attention from the story so that the subject could be discontinued.

“With enormous difficulty. It was so bad that Dr Martin wanted to cut his leg off, but Adam refused, he wanted to be able to walk on both his legs, not be crippled which would have happened if Paul had had his way.”

“But he walks just fine now, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, most of the time he does.” Olivia smiled and then her face dropped back into anxious severity “Reuben, Adam refused to give in to his pain, his fight was to beat the pain not let it beat him.” after a slight pause and staring into his eyes, she whispered “Do you understand what that means?”

“But - but Pa didn’t see what happened, he didn’t see, Ma, he doesn’t even know what happened.” 

Olivia lowered her arms and shook her head as though now words had failed her. What could she say to those words, it seemed more like an accusation than a statement of fact and it was true, after all, where was Adam now when she needed him so much? She walked to the window and drew back the curtain to gaze up at the sky and tried to imagine her husband doing the same wherever he happened to be at that moment in time. Then she turned to her son and smiled “He may not be here, but he’s missing us, thinking about us, I know that for sure, and he’d want to know we were all safe, and well.” 

“Ma, I do want to walk again, I truly do, but my head doesn’t let me. I sometimes think that I’ll get up and go for a walk, but then my head says not to go, not even to try and then when I do try my legs won’t work, they just won’t, Ma. Cheng Ho Lee’s exercises make me think they will and Hop Sing helps but it doesn’t make my head tell my legs to walk no matter what they do.”

He could hear the rustle of her clothes over the rug as she came to his side and knelt down beside the bed, once again her hand touched his face, very gently, and he could see she was smiling at him “Just keep doing the exercises, darling, your legs will get stronger and one day you will find yourself able to walk again. Adam had to do exercises, and they caused him so much pain, but he didn’t give in. So, Reuben, don’t give in, keep fighting to make your mind want your legs to walk again. Will you do that for me?”

“Yes, ma. But my mind -” his voice trailed away and he looked across to the window where the curtains, still pulled aside, exposed the vast span of stars in the night sky “I’m scared that it’ll happen again, that he’ll get me next time.”

“He can’t get you, dear. He’s in prison.”

“But his Pa might, his Pa doesn’t like us and he’s mean, like Leslie, and he might come and - and get me.”

“In which case, dear,” Olivia rose to her feet and tweaked his nose “You’ll need your legs to run away and get Gran’pa to help you, won’t you?”

Reuben frowned and thought that over a little while before saying in a whisper “I’d rather it were Pa.”

………..

Roy listened to what Candy had to tell him about the finding of Norman’s body and bowed his head. He listened to Candy’s slow deliberate way of passing on the facts before he looked up and glanced around the room, shook his head as though in denial, and then tugged at his moustache “Where was Alfred Stone at the time?”

“Alfred Stone?” Candy looked bemused and raised his eyebrows “What has Mr Stone to do with all this?”

“Because Norman was worried, concerned if you prefer, about Alfred Stone. He told me, and he told your deputy, that he thought the man was suspicious, that there was something odd about him. I didn’t listen as close as I should have done, having things on my mind at the time, but I told him to get more facts and come back with them later. Seems he won’t be doing that now. I let him down. It’s my fault he’s dead.”

“I don’t think you can blame yourself, Roy.” Candy said gently and placed a h and on the old mans shoulder, “Norman was always thinking up mysteries, you know that …”

“I always told him to look out for anything that struck him as odd. When he was a boy he used to ’ride’ on my shoulders, it was after his Pa died.” Roy frowned at the memory and shook his head “His Pa died while out looking for a killer, riding with my posse trying to hunt down some no goods, so I took a kinda interest in the boy. The council didn’t like their sheriff walking around town with a little boy perched on his shoulders, they tried to get rid of me then … but Norman was a good lad, inquisitive, intelligent too. No, Candy, you’re being kind but it ain’t true, it’s my fault .. All my fault.”

“Dodds told me that Norman had come in and talked about some customer in the hotel but Dodds didn’t pay no mind to it, perhaps he should have done.”

“Perhaps.” Roy sighed and settled down into his chair with a deep frown on his face as he tried to remember all that Norman had said about the customer in room 201.

Candy shook his head and glanced anxiously at the old man before deciding to take his leave, he knew Dr Martin was tending to Mrs Evans, and that Dr Schofield was checking on the body in the hopeful fancy of finding some clue as to the killer. He bade Roy goodnight and quietly left the house.

Chapter 59

Julian Camms looked up as Roy entered the hotel early the following morning, he gave the old ex-sheriff a wide smile and nod of the head “Good morning, Mr Coffee, a pleasure to see you here today.”

“Is it?” Roy sighed and then shook his head “I take it you don’t know about Norman?”

“Norman? You mean Norman Evans?” Camms frowned and looked worried, he glanced over at a fellow member of staff who drew closer, curious as to what was going on “He’s late for work, that’s all I can tell you. Is his mother ill again?”

“Norman was killed last night, he’s dead.” Roy replied bluntly and watched as the two men reacted much as he had expected them to, “I need to ask you some questions.”

“Yes, such as?” Julian leaned forward, eager to give what information he could in order to gain information himself. 

The other man cleared his throat loudly “You can’t ask questions now, Mr Coffee , you ain’t the sheriff here anymore.”

“S’right, you ain’t,” Julian sighed and stood straighter although he looked disappointed. “I suppose sheriff Canaday will be in to ask questions soon.”

“No doubt, but I wanted to ask you about a client of yours, not about Norman…”

“Oh, well, that’s different …what client is it?”

“Alfred Stone.” Roy puffed out his cheeks and raised his eyebrows “He’s jest got himself engaged to my sister, and I need to see him.”

“Understandably, of course you would… but I’m afraid he isn’t in town. He left for Placerville - oh let me see - not yesterday, but the day before. He’s kept his room though, said he’d be back in a day or two.”

“Is that right? Gone to Placerville huh?” Roy frowned and pursed his lips, he looked at Julian who was regarding him steadily still hopeful for some grains of information to drop into his lap and which he could pass on to others later. “Hmmm, I need to get into his room, leave him a message.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Coffee, you can’t do that, if you want to leave him a message you’d best leave it here and I’ll make sure he gets it for you.”

Both men looked disappointed for similar reasons, both men regarded the other before Julian got involved in looking at the register and Roy turned to leave, his chin resting on his chest as if he were in deep thought.

He strolled over to the telegraph and cable depot and scrawled out a message to the sheriff in Placerville. After passing it over to Eddy he walked to the sheriffs office where he found Candy and Clem Foster, he looked around the room “Where’s Dodds?”

“Mr Dodds has retired from the law keeping business.” Clem drawled and gave his rifle a brisker polish with the old cloth he had in his hand, “He decided he’d had enough.”

“I decided I’d had enough of Dodds to be more accurate.” Candy said as he placed the rifle he’d been cleaning back on the rack, “What can I do for you, Roy?”

“I wanted to know if you had any information about Norman yet, or if I have to go and get it from Schofield.”

Candy frowned and walked over to the stove where the coffee was brewing, he poured some into the three mugs “Roy, this isn’t your business any more,” he handed the hot brew over to the older man “Don’t interfere.”

“I’m not interfering, and if you don’t mind my saying so but I object to that word being used, I just want to have some information in order to help with enquiries.”

Clem looked over at Candy and knew from the fixed look on the mans face that Roy was going to lose on this particular matter, he sighed and picked up a cup and sipped the coffee, “Dodds said that Norman was concerned about a guest at the hotel, he even mentioned the room number -”

“201” Roy muttered, which caused Candy and Clem to glance over at one another before they looked at Roy “Belongs to Alfred Stone.”

“Stone’s in Placerville. He went long before Norman was killed, Roy” Candy said quietly, “That much I can tell you.”

“You found the weapon that killed the boy?” Roy stared at them over the rim of his cup, steam rose and misted his glasses but he pretended that had no effect on whether or not he could still see them, he continued to glare in their direction.

“No, the killer must have taken it with him.” Candy replied slowly and sat down at his desk, “Roy, I’m really busy right now.”

Roy emptied the cup and put it back on the stove, he nodded over at Clem and bade Candy goodbye before leaving the office. He stood for a while on the sidewalk and looked up and down to watch the comings and goings of the people he had so often called his family. He knew some were good, some weren’t so good, and some were plain evil… but he cared for them, even now, he cared for them.

Eddy passed over the slip of paper and watched as Roy read it. He could tell from the tightening around a mans jaw whether or not it contained good news, or bad. Roy re-read it slowly, his lips framing the words and then he tucked it into his pocket and thanked the clerk before strolling back to the Whitney Hotel.

The key was on a hook just dangling there for all to see, and there were no members of staff around to see him as he reached out and removed it. Without breaking his stride he hurried up the stairs until he located the room, and very quietly turned the key in the lock and pushed it open.

The rooms were very tidy and neat, the strong smell of the mans preferred cologne still permeated through and around the whole suite. As Roy carefully made his way from room to room he half expected to find Stone lounging around somewhere, nonchalant and smug, with those dark blue eyes staring at him in brazen challenge. Roy opened each door with a caution that he had learned through many years of experience.

He opened the wardrobe and found some suits hanging there, some shoes highly polished, and clean shirts. In the drawers everything that was folded there was clean and in order. Under the bed yielded nothing, except some dust and a brass button. He stood up, brushed down his pants and then stared thoughtfully at the dressing table. What, he asked himself, had Norman seen that had made him so concerned about Alfred Stone.

As he stood there he wondered if he had got it all wrong, perhaps Stone was an innocent businessman who had fallen in love with Rachel, perhaps … but then there was the cable in his pocket, and this Roy pulled out to read over once again before tucking it back out of sight. 

The dressing table yielded no clue as to Stone being anything other than what he claimed to be, and Roy felt disappointed that his examination had yielded no results. He shook his head at his reflection in the mirror and bowed his head in thought… then he smelt it, that strange smell that he had caught a drift of once or twice after Stone had been in the house. It wasn’t strong, after all the cologne he used smothered most smells for miles, but this particular odour lingered …Roy opened the drawers of the dressing table but found them empty, all except for some stands of hair that was stuck to the bottom of one drawer, and the reason it was stuck was because of the glue, the kind of gum that actors used when they needed to disguise themselves.

He left the room quickly, locked the door and replaced the key before anyone had had a chance of noticing it had gone. Without pausing for a moment he went to the livery and had his horse saddled, there was only one man he could think of who could help him now and with thoughts of what to say to him, Roy slowly rode out towards the Ponderosa

 

Chapter 60

The cable did not really say very much but what was said signified enough to Roy that the man who was supposed to be in Placerville had never arrived. Ben read it thoughtfully and then handed it back with a furrowed brow and half hooded eyes “Roy, what do you propose to do?”

“Find him, of course, and bring him back to hang for what he’s done. He got away with murdering those women, Ben, he can’t be allowed to escape justice for what he’s done to Norman.”

Ben sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and paced back and forth several times before reminding Roy that there was no proof, no evidence whatsoever, to pin the murder of Norman Evans on Alfred Stone. Roy listened patiently but only because it was Ben who was speaking, had it been Candy or anyone else he would have exploded with exasperation.

“I know that, but I don’t need no evidence, I know that he killed Norman.”

“Roy, how can you know?” Ben shook his head and then stared at the old man intently, he could see the resolve in Roys face, the stubborn determination to go ahead with or without him, “Where do you think he would have gone if not to Placerville?” he asked with resignation.

“A rat always returns to its hole, don’t matter where it is, but I know where he’ll have gone and that’s back to where he lived before he was arrested.”

“You’re still convinced Alfred Stone is Harry Cochrane?”

“Positive. Young Norman provided me with some facts, which I should have paid more attention to at the time, and I found some proof in his rooms.” Roy sucked his teeth for a moment and narrowed his eyes, then glanced over at Ben “I don’t blame you for not wanting to be involved, after all, I ain‘t the law any more, but seems to me that young Candy is dragging his heels somewhat, apart from which he don’t have the motivation to get this dealt with like I have.”

“What motivation is that, Roy?” Ben sighed as he walked to the bureau to get his gun belt and hat.

“To stop him murdering my sister, of course.” Roy frowned and shook his head now as he followed Ben out of the house, “Rachel may not like it, but if she carries on like she is, she’s going to end up deader’n than last weeks steak. She may be annoying in some of her ways, and in a lot of ways she’s a pain in the - mmm - but she’s still my sister.”

Ben said nothing to that but called over to Hester who was coming from the barn “I’m with Roy for an hour or so.”

She smiled and nodded, called a greeting to the other man and went on her way, Hope held in her arm and straddling her hip with Hannah skipping along beside her.


The building to which Roy led Ben was nestled in among some trees on the road to Carson City. It had taken them over two hours to reach it and when Ben looked down at it from the crest of the hill a coil of smoke appeared to prove Roys speculations correct. He glanced at his old friend and noticed the way Roys eyes had narrowed and his fingers touched the butt of his gun as though already in anticipation of a shoot out with his adversary.

“Do you think it’s him down there? Could be anyone?” Ben murmured.

“No, it’s him. He had to go someplace to hide out and then hed have returned and pretended he’d been in Placerville all along. No one believes me that he’s Cochrane so they don’t think about his place. Candy don’t even know it exists.”

“Can’t blame Candy for that…” Ben said evenly, and followed Roy as he walked his horse down a narrow track through the trees down the hill. “What do you intend to do? Knock on the door and expect to be invited in?”

“May be.” Roy said sourly, “He ain’t expecting no visitors. He especially won’t be expecting us.”

Ben shook his head “I really think that we should just make sure that he’s there and then go and get Candy.”

“Why?” Roy scowled and pulled his hat lower

“Because that keeps things within the confines of the law. Stone or Cochrane whoever he is, could accuse us of attacking him while he was innocently going about his business.” Ben heard himself saying the words while his mind was occupied with how to prevent Roy from acting in a way that at one time he would have considered unlawful.

Roy responded with a shake of the head and a shrug of the shoulders. He observed the building thoughtfully for a moment or two before edging his horse around to the back where a horse was feeding from a hay bag, he glanced over at Ben and nodded towards the animal “Recognise it?”

“No.”

“It’s one that Amanda has at the livery, hired out regular, I see it almost every week being used by someone.”
He dismounted carefully and walked towards the other animal with the reins of his own horse in his hands, behind him Ben did the same, feeling slightly vulnerable as they were clearly exposed to anyone who happened to step out through the door and stroll around the back. Roy paused “You keep hold of the reins while I go and check if he’s here.”

“I thought you were sure he was.” Ben muttered through gritted teeth

“Uh-huh, but then I was acting on what my gut said, now I want to be sure 100% … ain’t that what you jest suggested?”

Ben nodded and took the reins with one hand although he withdrew his gun as a precaution. Roy walked stiffly but quietly to the cabin, stepped onto the porch and very carefully made his way along until he disappeared from Ben’s sight.

Ben waited for some moments with the sun scorching his back thinking over the reasons why he had decided to accompany Roy on this trip. He was beginning to think what a waste of time it had been, and what a fool he was feeling, when the silence was shattered by gunfire. It was so sudden that Ben hadn’t time to think but ran towards the wall of the building with his gun raised and as he prepared to make his way to the front a man ran towards him, gun in hand and obviously with no intention of anyone getting in his way.

Both men paused momentarily, Ben stood straight and shouted “You’re under arrest.”

There was only one answer to that statement, the other man fired his gun several times and Ben went down, falling heavily like a sack of grain upon the hard backed ground. He was dimly aware of the sound of a horse cantering away until the sound faded along with the echoes of the gunshots.
……………

Hop Sing observed Reuben thoughtfully as Cheng Ho Lee went through the exercises they had devised to strengthen the legs. Olivia had told the old man of the conversation she had had with her son, and now he was wondering how he could turn it to good use.

Reuben was staring up at the ceiling, his mind drifting over various inconsequential things, he had become accustomed to the exercises, but as they appeared to have no effect in enabling him to walk he attached no importance to them any more. Hop Sing came and placed a hand on his shoulder “Why you not try to stand on feet now?”

“But I might fall over.” the child replied.

“Ah, no worry, you fall, I catch.” Hop Sing smiled and looked at Cheng Ho Lee who nodded and began to help Reuben into a sitting position. “When Mr Adam have bad leg, sometimes it was very painful for him to stand.”

“It’s not painful for me.” Reuben replied, “it’s just that my legs don’t want to stand up.”

Hop Sing nodded as though he understood entirely why legs performed one day and then chose not to do so another, he watched as Reuben was helped to stand up with Cheng Ho Lee supporting him. “Now see if you can stand alone.”

Reubens face registered panic, his hands flailed, and his eyes rounded as he felt his support leave him. As expected his legs crumpled and Hop Sing caught him before he fell onto the floor “See? I told you what would happen? My legs don’t want to stand … they don’t want to do anything.”

“Sometimes mind tells body not to do things, when the mind has been hurt it gets scars, just like your father has scar on leg, you have scar on mind.” Hop Sing said quietly as he assisted Cheng Ho Lee in getting the boy back onto the bed.

“But the bullet went into my side, not my head.” Reuben mumbled rubbing at his face in case tears were evident.

“Ah, that wound heal very good, little scar, no pain. But wound in mind very serious. Not healed yet. Scar painful.”

“What do you mean, Hop Sing?” he blinked, toppling over had been humiliating and he felt ashamed that so much time spent on helping him to have strong legs had failed.

“You sleep and dream .. Is that not so?”

“Yes, always the same dream. I keep seeing Leslie Downing with that gun… and his face..and his eyes staring at me. I keep seeing Jamie fall down. He bounced you know, when he hit the ground, I remember it …and I keep seeing it in my dreams.”

“When mind heal good, you will stand, you will walk. We must heal your mind as well as make sure legs strong for you when brain say to legs …walk.”

“How can I heal my brain, Hop Sing?” the boy whispered. “Can Dr Martin make it better?”

“Boy make own brain better. You see … you will heal yourself.”

Reuben frowned and closed his eyes. For a moment he lay very still willing his brain to get better until a little doubt crept in, and he realised he wasn’t very sure about what to say or how to say it. He opened his eyes and looked over at Hop Sing who appeared to be interested in something else, a recipe for a soup he wanted to prepare that evening.

“Hop Sing, how do I make my brain better?” 

The old man smiled and nodded as he approached the bed, he put a hand on the boys shoulders much as he would have done years before when Hoss or Joe were small like Reuben was now “First you teach yourself to change your dream. You can do that, it is not hard. You cannot change what happened, but you must remember ..you are alive. You did not get killed by bad boy … so, you tell your mind that next time you dream it will be different, you will not be afraid of the boy with the gun. You tell brain when I sleep I will be brave. I will change my dream.”

“I will change my dream.” Reuben intoned and frowned, “I think I can do that, at least I can try, can’t I?”

Hop Sing nodded, his smile widened “When dream change, you get courage. You will see, you will see.”

Cheng Ho Lee bowed as Hop Sing turned to leave the room, they were in agreement, they understood how mind and body worked together, now it was for the boy to do his part.

………..

Ben felt as though everything was whirling around, as though he were on a carousel. For a moment all he could do was raise himself by one arm and lean upon it, then wait until the ground stopped spinning. After some moments he was able to get to his feet, staggered a little and made his way to the wall of the building upon which he could lean. He felt blood down his arm and upon checking noticed that a bullet had creased the skin, torn his shirt, and the blood wasn’t gushing so it was nothing too severe. He felt his head and realised that a bullet had obviously creased across his scalp, probably what had caused him to pass out.

“Roy?” he yelled, his voice raising an echo but nothing more. “Roy?”

He stumbled along for a few paces until he was able to get strength in his legs and get to the front of the cabin. Then he stopped, froze in despair at the sight of his old friend lying on his back, his gun still in his hand, blood seeping into the ground from the wound in his chest. “Roy?”

Panic and fear for his friend brought him swiftly to Roy’s side, he knelt there, with Roys hand in his own while he checked for some sign of life. After a moment or two the faded blue eyes of the ex-sheriff opened and a vague smile appeared on his lips “Ben? I was right. It was him. Harry Cochrane.” a sigh and the eyes closed “I was right.”

 

Chapter 61

It was a surreal moment, one that Ben thought he would never forget for the rest of his life. As Roys eyes closed and the fingers around Ben’s hand tightened and then slipped away to fall lifeless upon the earth the rancher could only stare in horror and then, when the sound of horses approaching could be heard, wonder if Cochrane had returned to make sure his adversary was dead.

It was instinct to draw out his gun and get to his feet, standing as though on guard over Roys body Ben faced the approaching horsemen before lowering the weapon with relief as the three men drew nearer. It was Joe who dismounted and reached his father’s side first, swiftly followed by Hoss while Luke Dent shouted that he’d go for the doctor even without knowing whether an undertaker would have been more appropriate.

“Carry him into the cabin,” Ben said in a whisper, as though speaking too loudly would have killed Roy off for certain.

Hoss scooped Roy up in his arms and most carefully made his way to where the door stood open, followed by Joe who was holding Roys hat as though it were some kind of sacred relic, and Ben who was rubbing his chin and wondering if Roy really could be dead after all.

“He’s still breathing, Pa.” Hoss said quietly, “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you in a moment.” Ben replied placing his hand upon Hoss’ chest, “Thank goodness you came along when you did…”

“We heard gun fire,” Joe glanced around the cabin “Who does this belong to?”

“Does it matter?” came the answer as Ben slowly knelt at the bedside and felt for Roy’s pulse. “He’s an old man, a bullet in the chest could kill him.”

“Get something to stop the blood, Joe.” Hoss suggested as he hovered near the bed and looked down at the pallid features of one of their oldest and dearest friends, “And some water.”

He tore open the shirt and both he and his father looked at the wound, then looked at one another. “I hope to goodness that there’s a doctor available in town, and gets here fast.” Hoss muttered, “Its missed his heart, and his lungs, for Pete’s sake, that was a miracle in itself.”

“Here -” Ben turned and took the bowl of water and towel from Joe, “I’ll clean him up. Joe, if possible, make some coffee.”

“But, Pa, you’re hurt too…” Joe stammered, “What’s been going on while we’ve been away?”

“Make the coffee and I’ll tell you. Hoss, I’m alright, stop fussing, it’s just a graze, took off some of my hide that’s all.”

Staying close to Roys side, wiping around his face and moistening his lips with water, Ben told the younger men about Roys suspicions regarding the man who was courting Rachel Darrow, how no one seemed to be concerned and how Norman had been killed. Roy had done some detective work of his own which had led them both here, the cabin where Harry Cochrane had once lived all those years ago.

“Poor Norman.” Hoss sighed and shook his head, “I can remember how he was always tagging around after Roy when he was a kid.”

Roy groaned a little then, perhaps somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind the name of his young companion had triggered some memory, he raised a hand and seized that of Bens even though his eyes didn’t open and he said nothing.

Joe poured out coffee, thick, black and strong, as he did so he glanced around the cabin “He kept it pretty clean and tidy.”

“I suppose he had the time to get it spruced up, he said he was going to Placerville for a few days, but he never got there, just sat the time out here.” Ben murmured and again wiped around Roys face to remove the perspiration. “He’s getting feverish.”

“What do you expect?” Hoss replied “That’s a pretty nasty wound.”

Joe sighed and cradled his mug between his hands, “What else has happened since we’ve been gone? Is everyone alright? What happened about that incident at the school?”

Ben swallowed a lump in his throat and drew his hand across his mouth, “Candys waiting for the Circuit Judge, Leslie Downings in jail… Candy wouldn’t allow bail.”

“Good, nor would I have done. I’d have thrown away the key if’n it had been me sheriff instead of him.” Joe muttered between clenched teeth, “How’s Reuben? The last cable I got from Mary Ann said that he was still unable to walk.”

Ben nodded, “Yes, but Hop Sing and Cheng Ho Lee are working on it, hopefully they may have more success than the conventional doctors.” he smiled although it was more of a grimace than a smile “Even I’ve began to appreciate just how well their treatments seem to work.”

Hoss gave the briefest of smiles “That’s because they love their patients, Pa… Cheng Ho Lee and Hop Sing, they love our family, you know that?”

Ben nodded, for a while all three men allowed their memories to wander down the years and together they shared some of the time Hop Sing had used his knowledge of herbs and old Chinese cures to get them through some terrible times. Eventually Ben pushed his empty cup to one side and looked at Roy who was beginning to breath with more difficulty “I hope to goodness he survives this…”

Hoss and Joe shared a quick glance between them and said nothing. Hoss pulled up a chair and sat down opposite his brother and pushed his mug towards the coffee pot which Joe refilled. “We had a good trip, Pa. No problems, really straightforward and good prices for the cattle.” Joe muttered.

“Yeah,” Hoss turned sideways in order to see Ben “Luke did well too, well enough to build a new barn and pay off some of his debts.”

Ben nodded but his mind was on other things, his sons might as well have told him that they had gone to the moon for all the interest he showed.
…………..

Rachel Darrow read the letter and frowned thoughtfully before slipping it back in the envelope. She was standing at the depot waiting for the stage to Placerville and just needed to re-read the letter from Alfred to make sure she had got her directions correct. It had been harder than she had thought it to be, leaving her brothers house and protection in such a furtive manner and she now regretted some of the harsh things she had said to him recently.

If only Roy had been more accommodating, a little pleasanter towards Alfred, instead of making him feel so unwelcome in their home and looking at him as though he suspected every word he uttered. It was just too bad, too bad.

Bridie Martin passed her by and then paused “Why, Rachel, are you going on a holiday?”

Rachel flushed a little around the neck and then nodded graciously “Yes, just for a little while. I thought it would be good for Roy and I to have a break from one another.”

Bridie looked at the other woman and recognised a shifty look when she saw one, she sighed, knowing that Rachel was not a woman to tell anyone anything that she didn’t want them to know, so she nodded in acceptance of the lie “I hope you have a pleasant time, Rachel, and come home safely.”

As she walked away from the depot with her parasol shielding her from the heat of the sun and the dust from the road, Bridie wondered why she had said that, ‘come back safely’, why on earth shouldn’t Rachel Darrow come home safely. She paused at the haberdashery shop, recently opened and doing very well, she glanced back to the depot where Rachel was now boarding the coach. It was all very strange.

Walking briskly through town she turned from the main thoroughfare to the street where Roy shared his home with his sister. Hoping that she wasn’t going to appear an interfering busy body and earn herself a scolding from her husband she hurried along the path and knocked on the door … the silence from within was sufficient to confirm the house was empty.

Feeling now quite uncomfortable Bridie composed herself and decided that really she had no business being there anyway and left the premises. As she closed the gate behind her she turned back to look at the house. Its closed windows only seemed to stare silently back as though they were hugging a secret to themselves which they had no intention to divulge.

“Silly woman,” she scolded herself and with a slight shake of the head, which required an adjustment to her bonnet, she made her way to her own home.
………….

Marcy Dent gave Mary Ann a kiss on each cheek before she got into her one horse buggy. As always she was excited at the thought of seeing Luke again, the weeks had seemed never ending since he had gone on the cattle drive with the Cartwrights and Derwent Jessop. Now it was time to get back home. She tied the strings of her bonnet neatly and turned to wave goodbye to Mary Ann who was standing at the door with Daniel in her arms with a smile and a wave for her.

Mary Ann watched the other woman leave and stepped slowly back into the house. It seemed so empty. She hugged Daniel close and whispered “Daddy will be home soon, won’t that be fun?”

“Daddy” Daniel said and nodded, then wriggled to get down so that he could run about and find his toys to play with and as she watched her little boy running across the room his mother smiled thoughtfully and followed along behind him.

It had been a pleasant few weeks with Marcy to keep her company. It made her realise just how much she missed Bridie’s company and how much work that dear woman had spared her from day to day. She was grateful indeed that Hop Sing collected the laundry to take to his cousin for washing every week, although that never included her own little personal bits and pieces which she preferred to wash herself and see blowing in the breeze on the line. 

Now as she watched her son playing contentedly with his toys she was reminded that Joe would soon be home and he would be hungry, and with a slight skip in her heart she turned to her kitchen to continue preparations for their first meal together for weeks.
…………

Rachel sat in the stage and watched as the town slipped away from view. She smiled secretively to herself and thought of this new beginning in her life with Alfred. It was sad that even he had had to refer to Roys antipathy towards him, as he had written in the letter ‘ I cannot see us being happy together while you brother harbours this strange dislike of  me. So, my dear, I have sought out and found the perfect property for us.’

She day dreamed a little as she wondered what kind of property it would be and the couple sitting opposite her smiled at her because they assumed that her dreamy smiles were intended for them. The further the town faded from view the less reproach Rachel felt for leaving her brother in this sudden manner. She thought over some other phrases from Alfred’s letter ‘I have asked the preacher to conduct the wedding once the banns have been read. Please do not be angry with me, my darling, for doing this, I love you too much to want to offend you but when you see your new home .. I am sure you will understand my longing to make you my wife so quickly.’

The only cause for anxiety had been Alfred’s request not to let Roy know where she was going, or when. She nodded over at the other couple as they nodded at her, it wouldn’t be long before she was with him, her future husband, and, she had to admit to herself with some sincerity, this wasn’t the first time in her life she had kept a secret from her brother.

A horseman galloped past the stage and for some moments she struggled to remember who it was, she could recall the face but not the name. 
………….

Candy listened with mounting anxiety to what Luke Dent told him and Clem about Roys condition and then wanted to know the answer to so many questions that Luke had to insist he knew nothing about ..”I left Joe and Hoss to attend to them, it was obvious a doctor and yourself were urgently needed, there was no point in hanging around there while Roy bled to death.”

“You’ll have to come back with us,” Candy said, “ I have no idea where this cabin is that you’re describing - do you, Clem?”

Clem nodded, and with a sigh walked to the rack of rifles from where he took down one of them, “If I recall rightly it belonged to Harry Cochrane -” he darted a sharp look at Candy who had released a sharp intake of breath, “ No doubt that was the reason why Roy went there, because he believed that Cochrane had gone back there.”

Luke frowned, having no idea of who they were talking about he just shook his head and then muttered “Well, looks like he found him, doesn’t it?”

Dr Scofield was in his buggy and already proceeding out of town with a vague idea of the location of the cabin from Luke’s description. When the three horsemen galloped by he flicked his reins and got the horse into a steady canter. The dust from the stagecoach had settled a long time ago now, and Rachel Darrow was getting bumped about while her mind was full of dreams of wedded bliss once again. For the first time in a long time she really felt young again.

 

Chapter 62

The constant attention that Roy had been given by Ben, Hoss and Joe had staunched the blood flow sufficiently to sustain his life so when Schofield arrived, full of his usual self importance and bombastic manner they were able to step outside the cabin to leave him in efficient and unemotional hands.

Despite Ben’s initial misgivings when he saw Schofield arrive he had to admit to himself that he was no doubt the best of the doctors to deal with Roy’s condition.  Paul, an excellent doctor, was also an old and trusted friend of the old sheriff and there was just possibly the mischance that sentiment, or emotion, would affect the procedure. In any case, should Roy die under Paul’s hands then he would have been blaming himself for the rest of his life.

While Scofield dealt with the wounded man in the cabin Hoss, who had already cleaned up the wounds his father had incurred, now turned to Candy “Whats been going on, Candy?  How come you weren’t here with Pa and Roy?”

“Because I didn’t know they were going to be here,” Candy retorted angrily and then lowering his voice admitted that he had dismissed some of Roys speculative comments about Cochrane “I’m at fault, I admit it. I guess I’m not such a good sheriff as I had hoped to be and should have listened to Roy more closely.”

“Yes, you should have done,” Ben agreed “A man with Roys experience is invaluable to a young man like yourself, it’s not just the law Roy knew but the years of experience that makes how he feels, his gut reaction to things, essential to learn from…”

They had found some old barrels plus a rickety chair to sit upon on the porch while they waited for Schofield to deal with Roy, to be available should the doctor call and require some assistance.  Ben put a hand on the young sheriff’s arm, “If its any consolation, Roy thinks you are making a very good lawman.  He said you have all the necessary ‘equipment’ as he called it, to do good things for the town.”

“I don’t know, Ben, I feel I’ve let Roy down, and I should have followed through on what he was telling me…”

“What,” Hoss asked while chewing on a blade of grass “what exactly was Roy telling you, Candy?”

Clem looked at Candy and raised his eyebrows and then turned away to view the horizon.  Nothing stirred, there was no breeze, the leaves on the trees remained static, not even a tremble and the sun created a haze over the distant hills.  He sighed and looked again the younger man who was appearing to have trouble assembling his thoughts, eventually Candy nodded “Well, he was convinced that Cochrane was the man who was courting his sister.”

“That’s right, he believed Alfred Stone was in fact Harry Cochrane, courting Rachel was just a way of rubbing Roys nose in the past, taunting him .. That’s how Roy described it to me.” Clem muttered.

“I met Alfred Stone several times, he bore no resemblance to the description we had of Cochrane.  He was pleasant and businesslike, gave me his business cards as a matter of fact.” Candy bit down on his bottom lip and shook his head “He was so pleasant that I thought Rachel had done really well for herself.  You met him one or two times, didn’t you, Ben?”

Ben frowned and shook his head, “I don’t recall, Candy. There’s been too much going on at home with other things …but maybe I did, he doesn’t stand out to my mind.”

Clem stood up to stretch his legs, like Ben he was listening more to the sounds of the doctor dealing with Roy in the cabin than anything else.  He leaned against a post and sighed, “Young Norman came with what he called evidence that there was something odd about one of the guests at the Hotel he worked at… he told Dodds who sent him packing so the story we got was pretty garbled.  He also told Roy, but for some reason Roy didn’t give him much attention either… then Norman gets killed and Roy suddenly went on a crusade of his own.”

Candy nodded “Norman was killed 24 hours after the man called Alfred Stone had left for Placerville.  It’s not possible for a man to be in two places at the same time.”

 

  “True enough … he must have got off the stage, or possibly never even boarded it … hired a horse, dealt with Norman and then came out here until he could slip back into town as Alfred Stone again.” Ben sighed, “That’s how Roy explained it anyway.  He cabled Placerville’s sheriff for information about Stone, but the man was unknown there, and hadn’t got off the stage at the time Roy mentioned.”

Candy was about to speak when the door opened and Schofield stood in the entrance drying his hands on a towel. “Thankfully this place was remarkably clean.  As it happens the bullet that should have killed Roy Coffee glanced off the sternum, I’ve done what I can to put it in good order.”  he stared at them coldly and tossed the blood stained cloth to one side, and began to adjust the cuffs of his shirt sleeves “Some coffee would be appreciated.”

“How is he?  Is he going to recover?” came a chorus of voices which caused Schofield to shake his head and hold up a hand for silence 

“He’s a very sick man. I can’t - dare not - move him from here for a while.  Someone will have to come out here and stay with him until he’s strong enough to be moved. Any jostling about could kill him.  It’s a wonder he didn’t drown in his own blood …” he glared at Joe “Coffee?”

“Er - sure, coming up.” Joe leapt up and hurried into the cabin, glancing as he passed the bed at the sick man lying upon it.

Poor Roy.  Loyal friend and servant of the people.  How under estimated and how loved a man he was and as he hurried to make the coffee Joe’s hand shook at once again the realisation of the frailty of man.

Hoss came in with him and stood by his side although he was looking at Roy  “Sure hope he pulls through this.”

“Schofield seems pretty certain that he will.”

“I don’t know.” Hoss frowned and then looked around the cabin “He’s right though, this cabin sure is spick and span.  That Cochrane must be one fussy character to keep it so neat.”  he looked at the large trunk that stood against the wall and frowned, “Odd how so much has been going on while we’ve been away.”

Joe nodded, he could hear the murmur of voices outside and concentrated on pouring out the coffee “Do you think Candy will resign?”

“What for?  It ain’t his doing what happened to Roy.  If Roy had been less impatient he’d be alright now.  Candy ain’t got nothing to blame himself for.”

On the bed Roy remained in a deep unconsciousness, there was no pain, no memory, no anxiety about anything to disturb him.  His friends, one by one, came and sat by his side, patted his shoulder, or held his hand, worried about the pallid features, the clammy skin, wondered if their old friend would survive what had been an emergency operation performed in the cabin, it certainly didn’t comply with Schofields standards of a sterile unit despite his initial pleasure at how clean and neat the place happened to be.   But then how many men had fallen on battlefields even worst and lived due to the prompt attentions of a skilled and efficient medic?

Standing on the porch Dr Schofield blew upon his coffee in order to cool it while his eyes scanned the sunlit horizon.  He was wondering who he could get to come out to this out of the way place and care for the old man, after all, he’d worked hard to save him, he didn’t want his work wasted.………………

 

 

The sound of horses in the yard brought Hester hurrying from her sewing with little Hannah and Hope trailing along behind her.   Flinging open the door she gave a cry of delight at the sight of her husband and ran with open arms to greet him, to be swung off her feet and spun around and around in the middle of the yard for all the ranch hands to see.  Hannah was dancing about, trying to get her father’s attention while little Hope had tripped over her own feet and was sprawled out in the dust bawling piteously.

It was only when Hoss bent down to pick Hope up and gather Hannah into his arms that Hester realised that Ben had been hurt, the arm in a sling, his head bandaged (Schofield had eventually given him some attention before leaving), and pale features brought an anxious exclamation to Hesters lips and then “Roy? Is Roy alright?”

“No, not really.” Ben said very quietly as he reached out an arm to slip through hers, after all Hoss had both his arms full of little girls to accommodate his wife. “But we have Doctor Schofield to thank should Roy pull through.”

“I wish you hadn’t gone …” Hester moaned and shook her head, “You should have told him, Pa, that he needed to talk to Candy about it.”

“I know.  Perhaps I didn’t really believe him either, perhaps …” he paused and then forced a smile to his face, kissed her cheek “Thank you, Hester.”

“What for?” she said as she gave him a sidelong glance and a doubtful smile.

“For being you…” was all Ben could find to say in answer to that question.………….

 

Mary Ann listened to what Joe had to tell her and held his hand within hers, she kissed him several times and said ’Poor Joe’ occasionally as he told her how they had come across Ben and Roy and what had happened at the cabin.

“It was the longest time ever…” he sighed, and then rubbed his face, “Waiting for Schofield to be finished with Roy, wondering if he would be able to save his life.  Then he comes out and demands coffee…” he gave a wry smile, “I’ll say this for him, he’s a great doctor.”

“I’m sorry, Joe. I know how fond you are of Roy, this isn’t the best homecoming for you, is it?”

“Well, it could have been a lot worse.  It might have been Pa, or they could both have been killed.”

“I suppose so.” she looked across to where Daniel was stirring from his afternoon nap, then she smiled at her husband and squeezed his hand “He’s missed you. He wanted to know where his daddy was …”

Joe’s flushed a little with pride and love, he kissed her hand and then got to his feet and walked over to where the child slept.  Very gently he picked Daniel up and smiled as the child yawned, rubbed his eyes and then, blinking like a little owl, looked at him

 

“Daddy?” the child squeaked, rubbed his eyes again “Daddy home?”

“Yes, son, daddy’s home.”

Mary Ann came to his side and slipped her arm through his, stroked Daniel’s cheek and kissed Joe again, “Joe, I’ve something to tell you …”

He stopped from tweaking Daniel’s nose and turned to her, noticed the sparkle in her eyes, and not from tears … he regarded her thoughtfully with his head to one side “Yes?”

“What would you say if I were to tell you that Daniel may have a little brother or sister by the fall?”

What would he say? What could he say? He gave a whoop that made Daniel jump and then he grabbed at her, held her close and spun the three of them around and around …wasn’t it just the best news ever? 

 

Chapter 63

 

Bridie O’Flannery Martin was the first in a long queue of volunteers to sit and care for Roy.  The town that he had viewed as his family for so many years now showed in an abundance just how much they loved the old man.  Men lined up to form a posse to catch Cochrane, and some were despatched to the cabin to stand guard in the event of his returning.  A rota was formed, by Dr Schofield, for women to care for Roy throughout the time required at the cabin.

 

So when Bridie sat by his side with a small fire burning in the hearth to stave off any night chill, she felt quite privileged to have the chance to spend the time caring for him.  Outside she knew at least six men were stationed around the vicinity of the building and when she was relieved from her ‘duty’ then six other men would take the place of those now guarding her. 

 

Paul had of course insisted on riding out with her and checking on the patient which he did with his usual gentle thoroughness.  He could not fault Schofields work and sat for half an hour with Bridie at the bedside of his old friend, talking soothingly to him about old times, even though Roy was too far in the place a mind goes when overwhelmed with shock, pain and blood loss.

 

Now Bridie sat alone, occasionally stroking his hand, wiping his brow with a damp cloth, checking the dressings to make sure that nothing unwarranted was happening beneath the bandages.  Her thoughts roamed and then she remembered Rachel, and how that determined little woman was on her way to Placerville.  She had said it was for a short break from Roy, but was she in fact going to meet with Roy’s hopeful murderer?  If so, was she complicit with this attempt on Roy’s life?

 

For a while she paced the floor with her worries and uncertainties before calming down sufficiently to return to Roy’s bed and with a sigh lament over the things that had befallen him.  What a strange world she had stepped into when she had accepted Olivia Phillips’ invitation those few  years ago?  But she was happier and more fulfilled now than she had ever felt before in her life, so as she sat beside Roy she counted her blessings just as her old mother used to tell her, and was indeed grateful for each one.

…………..

 

Rachel Darrow stepped from the stagecoach and looked around her anxiously.  The other passengers were walking away as though they knew exactly where they were heading, but she just stood there and waited, turning this way and that while everyone was getting on with their business.  She was about to complain about being jostled aside by the driver when she heard a familiar voice and turning saw Alfred walking towards her with a wide smile on  his face.

 

Her heart leapt as she saw him and like a young girl she ran to him and flung her arms around him “I thought  -”

 

“No,” he put a finger to his lips, “No thinking, no worrying, my dear.” he picked up her valise and proffered his free arm to her so that they walked happily together along the sidewalk  “The house won’t be available for me to show you until to-morrow so I have booked a room for  you at the hotel. I hope you don’t mind, my angel?”

 

“Of course not.”

 

“And Roy didn’t mind you coming away ?”

 

“Oh, I thought you mentioned not to say anything to Roy?  I slipped away while he was out visiting Ben.”

 

“Good.  You did the best thing, no point in ruffling his feathers any more than they are already.” 

 

She glanced anxiously at him, his voice had changed just a little, a strange tightness but then he turned and smiled at her and she let go of her fancies to smile back.

 

“And you did bring the money?”

 

“Yes, of course.  Every cent that you said we would need.”

 

“Excellent.” he paused and smiled, raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, “I was really annoyed at the fact that I had moved the money in my account to pay for some extra expenses. Wrong timing really  but then I didn’t expect to find such an excellent bargain of a home for us so quickly.  You will love it and …” he sighed dramatically “As soon as my accountant has moved my money from my investment portfolio I shall be able to repay you, every cent.”

 

They smiled at one another, she actually laughed, and hugged his arm against her side. In the shadows two men watched, one stepped forward only to have a hand rest upon his chest “No, not yet …” came the cautionary whisper “Wait.”

……………..

 

Adam and Jotham stood close to the bedside of the dying man and watched as Euan tended to him, there was little doubt now that Jefferson was dying and it was obvious that the doctor was both irritated and annoyed that his patient had chosen this alternative to life.  He looked over at the two officers and shook his head “Its as if he has just given up any desire to live.”

 

“It’s his choice” Jotham said with a slight hardness in his voice “Perhaps he felt there was nothing left for him to live for.”

 

Adam nodded and stepped closer to the bed, “Jefferson, can you hear me?”

 

Howard’s eyes rolled in their sockets as he forced himself to concentrate on Adam’s voice, he blinked several times and managed to articulate the word ’Yes’

 

“Is there anything at all that we can do for you?  Anything at all?”

 

The man struggled to get his thoughts together, he closed his eyes and sighed, then reached out his hand which he felt gripped between Adam’s, his fingers tightened their hold, “Matilda.  Look after Matilda.”

 

“Of course, I’ll do all that I can …”

 

“You don’t know, you don’t understand …”

 

“What don’t I know?  Can you tell me?”

 

Howard tried to lift his head from the pillow but the effort was too much, he sunk down again and his eyes rolled, a gagging sound came from his throat and then slowly his laboured breathing ceased.

 

Euan glanced up at Adam and shook his head, “I’m sorry, I did all that I could for him.”

 

Both officers said nothing for a moment, they just stared at the lifeless form that had once been so full of life, Adam remembered the excitement the man had shown at the sight of some ancient pottery, Jotham recalled his delight in being among a primitive people who demanded nothing from him.

 

“They said to bring him home, dead or alive.” Jotham said quietly

 

“He obviously preferred it this way.” Adam murmured and then looked at Euan “Did he speak much to you, Euan?”

 

“Hardly at all.” the doctor replied as he stepped away from the bed and washed his hands in the water he had previously poured into a bowl.

 

“Nothing when he was delirious?” Jotham suggested and Euan shrugged “No, he wasn’t really delirious, barely at all.”

 

“Who attended on him apart from yourself?” Adam asked now and Euan looked at them both thoughtfully before giving the names of two orderlies.

 

“I could only spare the two of them, they’re good men, they wouldn’t have neglected him.”

 

“No need to be so defensive, doctor.  Could you send the men to my ready room… one at a time.” Adam asked and then paused “You are sure he said nothing to you about his brother?”

 

“His brother?  I didn’t even know he had a brother.  He did talk about Matilda though… rambled on about how much he loved her, how she obviously didn’t love him not even a token of her love … “ he shrugged and sighed, threw down the towel beside the bowl “I’ll send the men to you, Adam.”

 

Adam inclined his head and then, together with Jotham, left the cabin without a further word.

 

The first orderly to appear was a middle aged man by the name of Pratt who admitted that he had been part of a watch duty assigned to the sick man during the past three days when his condition had worsened.

 

“Was he delirious at any time?” Adam asked.

 

“He was what one would term as feverish at times but never delirious in my presence, sir.”

 

Adam observed him thoughtfully, he was seated behind his desk and his long fingers toyed with a pen although it was Jotham, seated near by the port hole who was actually writing down the questions and responses. Pratt was a patient man, and one not fazed by much, he was given orders and carried them out to the letter.  He was a man who lacked imagination but was efficient in doing what he had to do no matter what the circumstances. 

 

“Mr Pratt, did you engage Professor Jefferson in any conversation at all about his private life?”

 

“Well, once or twice, sir.  He told me about some of the expeditions he had been on and the kind of discoveries he had made, it all sounded very exciting.” Pratt replied in the tone of voice that implied the skin of a rice pudding was equally as enthralling.

 

“Did he mention to you that he had a brother?”

 

“No, sir.” Pratt frowned as a man deep in thought then shook his head “He never mentioned a brother but did say he had come from Albany.”

 

“Did he mention to you why he had been brought from Brazil, from his latest expedition?”

 

“No, sir. It was none of my business anyway.  He was actually a man of few words, the only time he really got carried away with talking was when he was telling me about his finds on those expeditions.”

 

Adam nodded and after thanking the man dismissed him.  The next orderly to come was a man called Fletcher.  He was a younger man, sharp eyed and quick witted, he glanced around the room, noted Jotham at the port hole, Adam at his desk and accurately assumed that something was ‘up’.  Adam asked him the same initial questions that had been asked of Pratt and was told that the Professor had never become delirious until the last few hours before his death when he, Fletcher, had summoned the doctor.

 

“When he was delirious what exactly did he talk about?” Adam asked slowly, his eyes on the man’s face in order to catch every expression as he had quickly realised Fletcher was a more discerning man than Pratt.

 

“Not what, sir, but who … he kept on about a lady called Matilda.  Swore that he loved her and wanted to spare her any pain which was why he never fully revealed to her the depth of his love.   He never said that exactly, sir, but the bits and pieces he did say could be summed up in those words.”

 

“Did he mention anything about his brother?”

 

“Sackville Jefferson, sir?  Yes, he mentioned him once or twice, swore on oath that he had never killed him, never wanted to harm him.  He was quite troubled by that, in fact, he wanted me to be clear of his innocence.”  he paused, then shrugged “For some reason, at the time, he thought I was you, sir.”

 

Adam just gave him the benefit of a cold glare before proceeding to his next question “On other occasions, when he was lucid, did he talk to you about anything?”

 

“Oh well, the kind of talk one would expect from a man like himself… he was an explorer, an archeologist.  He talked about his expeditions, some of the things he had found, a book he had written a long while back which he recommended that I read. But nothing else other than that .. Oh, he did complain about the food.”

 

Adam nodded, thanked him and dismissed him.  As the sounds of Fletcher’s boots faded down the corridor Adam turned to Jotham “Well, I think that should sufficient information for our report, Jotham.  Do you have any comment to make?”

 

Morton shook his head “No, sir.”

 

“We always said that it was a strange assignment, didn’t we?” he leaned back into his chair and stared thoughtfully at the far wall, “Of course, we ourselves will come under scrutiny, having spent so long with him.”

 

“In which case, sir, we had better make sure that we give them the same information, whoever Senator Jefferson knew as a former club member -”

 

“-or members”

 

“Exactly - whoever they were, may not be happy at our having some knowledge of what was going on .  I think, personally, it may be wise if we forgot all about Howard Jefferson’s mention of that particular club.”

 

Adam twirled the pen thoughtfully between his fingers and looked at Jotham with a little anxiety before he nodded and with a sigh, put the pen down.  “I agree.” was the only comment he felt he could have made.

 

Chapter 64

 

Rachel Darrow put the money down on the table in neat little bundles and with a trusting look at her fiance stood back for him to count them although he insisted, of course, that it was far from necessary as he trusted her implicitly.  However he drew closer to observe the quantity of money and shook his head as though it quite dazzled him “I’m amazed that you could get this amount of money so quickly, my dear.”

 

She shrugged her shoulders as she began to remove her cape and bonnet “I had most of it under my bed.  I’ve never trusted banks, especially out here where there’s always reports of bank hold ups and robberies.  Nothing is safer than knowing where your money is, and that is as close to oneself as possible.”

 

“But such a large sum of money, my love.”

 

“I know.” she turned to regard it dispassionately, as though it were somewhat vulgar to show too much affection for it “Most of it was insurance from my husbands death during

the war.  My sons … “ she sighed and sat down, reached out her hand to take hold of his, “Well, that’s in the past now.  This is almost all the money I possess, Alfred, you can see how much I love and trust you by placing it in your hands, can’t you?”

 

Once again Alfred Stone kissed her fingers and held her hand against his chest “You won’t regret it, Rachel.  This will pay for the house and more besides.  Much more in fact.” he looked at the money stacked on the table again “You had this under your bed all these years?”

 

“Well, it was safe in a bank for a while but it was only when I came west to stay at Roys that I brought it along with me and put it under the bed.  Roy never suspected, of course, he’s the least mercenary of men.”

 

“You won’t regret this, my dear, you really won’t.”

 

She smiled again and sat down on the chair he had pulled away from the wall for her to recline upon.  She sighed a little and hid a yawn, “Goodness me, I’m tired.”

 

“Would you like to have something to drink?  To eat?”

 

She thought about it a while giving him time to move behind her and place his hands upon her shoulders, “I didn’t realise how tired I was…”

 

“Then close your eyes and try to sleep for a little while.  Perhaps if I just massage your shoulders a little here, it will help you to relax ?”

 

“Well, really, Alfred, I’m feeling more than relaxed already,” she gave a laugh, rather thin and then yawned again, “But I won’t object if it keeps you near me for a little longer.”

 

“Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll not leave you for as long as you live.” Alfred said and dropped a kiss upon the top of her head as his hands gently rubbed her shoulders, moved higher a little and then higher and his fingers tightened and tightened

 

“Alfred …Al - fred …” she gasped, half rose in her chair and brought her hands up to pull his hands away but still his fingers squeezed and squeezed

 

Someone - it seemed a very long way away to Rachel - shouted ‘NOW!” and the door burst open to what sounded like a herd of elephants charging into the room.  The pressure on her neck and throat lessened, she felt herself falling onto the floor which seemed to be spinning faster and faster out of her control until it spun her straight into a black hole.

 

Sheriff Hayes stepped forward with his gun levelled at Stone while behind him came Candy Candaday.  Several other people seemed to fall into the room behind Candy so that it wasn’t long before the place seemed overcrowded with people.  Hayes looked at Alfred and shook his head “Well, well, Mr Cochrane, you sure prove that a leopard don’t change its spots, don’t you?”

 

“I’m - my name -”

 

“We know who you are, Mr Cochrane, don’t try bluffing your way out of this one.” Candy said coldly.

 

A woman was kneeling beside Rachel waving some smelling salts beneath her nose, the smell drifted into the room which was now emptying leaving the two lawmen, Cochrane, the two women and a man who professed to be a doctor and was helping to minister to the unconscious woman.

 

Hayes looked at Candy who nodded and said in his deep voice “Harry Cochrane also known as Alfred Stone, I’m arresting you in the name of the law on the charge of the murder of one Norman Evans, the attempted murder of Rachel Darrow, and the attempted murder of Roy Coffee.”  he smiled slightly at the way Cochrane’s eyes bulged at the mention of Roy “Oh yes, you didn’t kill him, much as you had hoped you had.”

 

Candy then proceeded to tell Cochrane his rights as he handcuffed him and led him out of the hotel room, leaving Rachel to the tender mercies of a caring doctor and nurse.

 

The money remained in its neat little piles upon the table.

………………

 

Reuben woke up, he rubbed his nose with his fingers and then looked around the room. It was still dark but he could see and recognise familiar shapes.  He stared at them for a while and then closed his eyes. He was really tired but as he slowly drifted back to sleep he remembered his dream, the last lingering remnants of it still in his memory …there was Leslie Downing just as he had been in the playground, there was Jamie falling and there was David.  He had been staring at Lesley, seen the deliberate intent in those eyes and had felt the familiar pang of fear, dread and as his heart began to beat his Pa’s voice said “It’s alright, son, you can wake up now.”   … and he had.

………..

 

Roy opened his eyes and stared up into a face he had known for a long time, they shared a smile before he closed his eyes again.

 

“He’ll be alright now,” Paul said softly to his wife, and reached for her hand, “I wasn’t sure at first, although Schofield had done an excellent job, but sometimes it’s more than careful stitching that heals a man, it has to be the desire within him as well.”

 

Bridie smiled and squeezed his fingers, she nodded and stood beside him as they both looked down at the man now sleeping steadily in the bed.  “When do you think he can be moved to  his own home?”

 

“Another 24 hours, just to make sure.”

 

A sharp tap on the door drew their attention away from the patient, Paul’s face creased into a smile as Ben stepped into the cabin “Well, Ben, as you can see, Roy’s going to get well.”

 

“I never doubted it for a minute, he’s far too contrary a cuss to die from a bullet in the chest.” Ben chuckled, he looked over at Bridie “Mary Ann said if you could call in and see her sometime soon, she has something she wants to talk to you about…”

 

“Well, there’s no time like the present,” Bridie replied releasing her fingers from her husbands hand, “I’ll be back home later.”

 

Paul gave her a kiss on the cheek and watched her leave the building, then he looked at Ben “How are you feeling, Ben?  How’s the arm?”

 

“Oh, that’s nothing” Ben waved away the problem with his arm and approached the bed “I was passing this way into town and wanted to make sure he was alright.”

 

Paul smiled, he knew it was a good hour or so detour from the road into town and not a matter of ‘just passing’ at all.  “Have you heard any more from Candy?”

 

“He’s in town now with Cochrane.  I’ve not spoken to him yet about what happened in Placerville.”

 

“How’s Rachel?”

 

“All I know is that she is in a state of shock.”

 

Paul only nodded and then looked at  Roy, “Well, Cochrane nearly got two birds with one stone…” he shook his head, “I’m glad they caught him in time before Rachel could have been killed.”

 

Ben nodded in an absent minded manner, his memories of Roy Coffee filling his mind, the first time they met, the number of times he ‘arrested’ Little Joe and let him off with yet another caution, the camaraderie the old man had with Adam …he sighed, “I would have  hated to have lost him.”

 

Paul looked from one man to the other, two men who had been part of his own life for so long, he felt a lump in his throat which he cleared noisily before walking to the window to look out at the hills.  He knew that not only Ben Cartwright would have missed the old man, so many others would have done equally as much.

 

 

The three ships had split now, the one ship heading to San Francisco and the two others continuing on towards Washington.  In the hold of the Shenandoah was a well shaped coffin with the body of Howard Jefferson lying within it.  It moved slightly with the motion of the ship as the waves heaved the vessel up and down, side to side.

 

In his cabin Adam turned up the flame in the lamp and then sat down at the low table where the chess board had been set up.  Jothams hand was hovering over the bishop, but he looked up and smiled when Adam had rejoined him “Well?  Not much further now.”

 

“No, it will be good to be home again… once I’ve left Washington that is.” Adam picked up his glass of wine and after smelling it took a sip, he looked over at Jotham “Any worries?”

 

“Only at the back of my mind.  Hopefully there’s no reason for anyone to doubt what we say or cause any difficulties.  It should go perfectly straightforwardly.”

 

Adam gave a rather lop sided smile as though he only half believed the other man, then he took a swallow of the wine before setting down his glass “We can but hope.”

 

With those words he sat back and watched as Jotham contemplated his move, but his mind was on the matter of what could happen in Washington with those unseen men who had control, it seemed, over his life.

 

Chapter 65

 

Candy Canady was more than tired, he was plain exhausted and as he sat down behind the desk in the sheriff’s office he was more than grateful for the thick strong black coffee  Clem passed over to him  “Thanks, Clem.”

 

The older man smiled and nodded “You deserve it, Candy.  Why not go home and get some sleep while you can?”

 

Candy gulped down the hot coffee and then shook his head “I’d like to but I’ve this report to fill in first.” he rubbed his face with one hand before lifting the mug to drink more from it, “How’s Roy?”

 

“Holding his own.  They’re hoping to bring him to his own home tomorrow.” Clem pulled out a chair, looked over in the direction of the cell where Harry Cochrane was sprawled on the cot, “You did well bringing  him in.”

 

“Just in time too.” Candy put the mug down, “He actually had his hands around her throat, another minute and she’d have been dead. Sheriff Hayes sure knew his stuff, Clem, he knew exactly the right time to pounce on the man.  We bust in to the room and Rachel Darrow was going blue in the face, her heels drumming on the floor… and all her money stacked up in neat piles on the table -” he frowned and shook his head “He sure must have been mighty persuasive to have got her to part with all that money, I got the idea from Roy that she was a mite mean and it was his money that kept them afloat.”

 

“But she is alright, isn’t she?” Clem got up to stroll over to the stove with the empty cups in his hand, he poured more coffee into each of them and returned to his side of the desk. He pushed Candy’s mug over to him

 

“Hayes got a doctor and a woman close by in case they were needed, and they were for sure.”  he sipped at the coffee now, his thirst reasonably sated but appreciating the need for a refill, “Did she scream and holler once she realised she was still alive, and then she sobbed and bawled like a crazy woman when she realised that Alfred Stone had tried to kill her.”

 

“Has she seen him without his disguise?”

 

“Yep,” Candy heaved in a big breath of air and slowly exhaled “Yep,  Hayes stripped off the eyebrows and beard and false hair to prove to her that he was an imposter, out for her money and nothing else.”

 

“I almost feel sorry for her,” Clem muttered as he leaned back against his chair and crossed his legs “And there’s Roy nearly dead because of him.  You must have ridden your horse to Placerville full belt all the way to get there in such good time.”

 

“I did …” Candy said quietly, “I overtook the stage at one point while they were at the way station.  Cochrane admitted to killing Norman and the shoot out at his place, he thought he had succeeded in killing Roy and Ben, wasn’t happy when he found out that Ben was just fine, and Roy had survived. I didn’t tell him that it was still touch and go, mind you.”   

 

He pulled some paper towards him and picked up a pen, dipped it into the inkwell “He was clever, Clem, give him his due.  He left town as Alfred Stone, telling everyone he was going to take the stage to Placerville, only got as far as the livery stable ..”

 

“Ridleys?”

 

“No, the other one right on the outskirts.   Then he got rid of his disguise and sent a note to Norman, killed him, then he went to Ridleys and hired a horse… with all his makeup and disguise in a carpet bag.  He stayed at his old home for some days to give Rachel the illusion that he had spent the time in Placerville house hunting, and also to provide himself with an alibi should anyone suspect he had had dealings with young Norman.  He was heading for Placerville when Roy and Ben came across him …”

 

Clem nodded “Where’s Rachel now?”

 

“Still in Placerville.  She wanted to stay there for a while, said she couldn’t face coming back here.  When I told her about Roy she just bawled and cried all the more and said she couldn’t handle that as well.”  he frowned “She’s just plain selfish.”

 

“She’s had a shock, Candy, gotta feel sorry for her someways.”

 

Candy was about to speak in reply when the door opened and Downing the storekeeper burst in followed by his lawyer, Candy sighed and put the pen down.  “What can I do for you, Mr. Downing?”

 

Downing drew  himself up to his full height and glared at both Candy and Clem “My lawyer says it ain’t right for my boy to be locked in a cell with a murderer in the cell next to him.  I demand you release Leslie on bail right now, Sheriff, or I’ll sue you for - for -” he cast a frantic look at the lawyer who muttered something “I’ll sue you for putting my boy in a position where he could be corrupted by unwholesome association with Cochrane.”

 

Clem rose to his feet, rolled his eyes and walked over to the rifle rack where he began to check them with considerable care and attention. Candy rubbed both hands over his face and through his shock of black hair, then stared at Downing with cold blue eyes “Mr Downing, are you really serious?”

 

“Release my boy now, or -”

 

“Mr Downing, I suggest that you and your lawyer go somewhere nice and quiet and talk

This over sensibly.  For a start your son can’t be corrupted, secondly you seem to forget that you son has killed two people - children - and seriously injured another.  He’s a murderer, Mr Downing, just like Cochrane …”

 

The lawyer stepped forward “Sheriff, he is not a murderer like Cochrane. Cochrane is a hardened criminal.  Leslie Downing is a child, and, may I remind you, he hasn’t been tried yet so you can’t go around calling him a murderer.”

 

Candy closed his eyes and then opened them again, he stared at the two men and then shook his head “The formalities of a trial have, I know, still to be got through, but the fact remains, Mr Whiley, that the boy has shot those children, there’s a whole playground of other children who witnessed it, a school teacher who witnessed it, and other of us who saw him with the smoking gun in his hands.  Why is it, Mr Downing, that you just can’t seem to grasp the fact that he’s guilty.”

 

Downings face dropped, the colour changed from mottled red to puce and then to a strange oatmeal, he shook his head and mumbled something before grabbing Whiley’s arm and turning him towards the door where they hurriedly made their exit.  Candy sunk back into his chair and shook his head, stared at the blank page in front of him and then got to his feet “Clem, I’ll leave you in charge here, I’m too tired to think straight.  I practically killed my horse to get to Placerville in time and then had to deal with Cochrane there, before catching the coach back to town… I’m so tired I could sleep right here and now.”

 

“Then best get home, Candy.” Clem smiled and placed a friendly hand on the other mans shoulder “And don’t forget, when you get back, we have to swear in another deputy, we’re a man short now Dodds has gone.”

 

With a groan at the thought of having to find another willing man to replace Dodds, Candy dragged himself away from the office and after picking up his hat made his way to his home.

…………….

 

Ben was fussed over by his womenfolk and when Olivia arrived with Sofia and baby Nathaniel she was quick to add her attentions to those of her friends.  Sofia ran off to play with Hannah, Hope was asleep and Nathaniel dozing so she was able to sit beside her father in law and take hold of his hand and commiserate with him, all of which he accepted manfully and with great delight, as he gave his orders for this and that, even to having Hester fill his pipe for him…

 

“You know, Pa,” Hester remarked as she carefully stuffed tobacco into the bowl of his favourite pipe “You are becoming like one of those Potentates from the east who have harems full of women doing their masters will.”

 

Olivia laughed at that and warned Hester to be careful with what she was saying as there were some things she for one wouldn’t be doing and that led to them all giggling while Ben looked affronted and said such things wouldn’t even cross his mind.  They were still laughing and giggling when Hoss and Joe arrived, tossed their hats on the bureau and smiled over at them “What’s the big joke.”

 

Ben sighed dramatically “It seems that I am …”

 

“Oh well, that’s understandable,” Joe quipped, and smiled over at his wife “How much  longer are you going to keep the poor patient act, Pa?  Considering you’ve been riding around all over until yesterday…”

 

“Ah yes, that was when the pain really set in…I should’ve been more careful,” Ben frowned and smiled at Olivia “How’s Reuben?”

 

“He’s doing well, Pa.  The dreams are fading, he can talk about what happened without any distress now and Cheng Ho Lee is quite sure that he will be out of that wheelchair soon.”

 

Joe and Hoss looked at one another, but it was Joe who spoke up “That’s good, because the circuit Judge is coming next week.  The trial’s fixed for Tuesday.”

 

Olivia went slightly pale but nodded, she looked at Ben who saw the sudden anguished look in her eyes before she seemed to recover herself, “Well, that’s good isn’t it?” she said quietly, “After all, it’s no good to anyone for it to hang on much longer.”

 

Hoss nodded and looked at his father “Some letters for you, Pa.” he held out several and walked to the blue chair into which he sat down despite its protests at the weight, “I think there’s one from Martha Frobisher.”

 

Ben nodded and after sifting through found the one with Martha’s familiar handwriting, and paused as the black edge around the envelope warned them of its contents. With a sigh he ripped the paper open and read the sad news that Julian Frobisher had died of heart failure three days previously (to the time the letter had been written) and that if Ben could possibly attend the funeral which was to be held on the 26^th of the month the writer would be very pleased to see him.  Ben folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, the 26^th was the day of the court hearing, the trial of Leslie Downing.

 

Olivia gripped his hand and forced a smile “You must do what you think best, Pa.”

 

Hoss frowned “You gotta be here, Pa, Reuben will  be depending on you being there for him, seeing as how …” he paused and bit down on his bottom lip and wished he had held his tongue because they all knew what he intended to say, and Olivia flushed a little pink but just bowed her head and squeezed Ben’s hand.

 

“I know that,” the old man replied, “I’ll get a cable sent to Martha to explain why I can’t be there, and I’ll write her a letter.”  he smiled down at Olivia “Don’t worry, my dear girl, our boy won’t be alone on Tuesday.”

 

“I know, Pa.” Olivia whispered and dropped a kiss on the work worn hand before looking up into his face, still handsome, still that generous smile and the near black kindly eyes. “Thank you.”

 

Chapter 66

 

The room was bathed in the late sunlight of the fading day so that golden swathes of warmth gleamed over the furniture to touch the spines of the books on the shelves along the wall.  Sofia had been sent to bed with a kiss and hug accompanied by the promise that Olivia would be up soon to read a story and say her evening prayer with her.  For a moment, as the house seemed to settle itself down for the evening, Olivia stood at the window and watched some birds wheeling about in the cloudless sky and then she turned to look at Reuben who was reading a much loved book.  The sunlight gleamed upon his hair and caught the line of his cheekbone and the nose that was so much like Roberts. She approached him slowly so that only the rustle of her skirts could be heard to distract him from what he was doing, he smiled sleepily “Is it time for me to get to bed, Ma?”

 

“Yes, soon,” she sat down and put her hand on the arm of the wheelchair, then looked at it, up and down before her eyes returned to look at him “Have you tried to stand or walk today?”

 

He blinked rapidly for a second or so, then shook his head “No, Ma.  I guess I should have done but I - I was afraid I would fall down if I did.”

 

“You shouldn’t be afraid, dear.  There will always be someone here to catch you should you fall.”

 

He bowed his head and frowned a little while he thought to himself ‘she doesn’t understand’ and sighed as he glanced up “I’ll try another time, Ma.”

 

She leaned back into the cushions of the settee and nodded although her eyes never left his face, “My mother used to say to me - whenever I said I was too afraid to do anything - ‘Fear knocked on the door, faith answered and there was nothing there.’  Do you understand what that really means, Reuben?”

 

He crinkled his brow and lowered his head again, for a moment his mind went blank and then he nodded “Does it mean that you can feel afraid, but that if you face it - whatever the problem may be - it might be that there really wasn’t anything to be afraid of after all.”

 

“That’s right,” she sat upright again and smiled, her eyes darkened and she reached out a hand to take hold of his, “Did I ever tell you about the time when the Bannocks came and took us from our home?”

 

He shook his head and looked at her with rather excited curiosity so she drew in a deep breath and began to tell him of the day when the Bannocks came to the Double D.  “There had been trouble with the Bannocks for some time, they had burned down some homesteads and killed people so when we heard the sound of their horses and the war whoops we knew that we faced great danger.  My mother was in the yard and screamed to us to run and hide while at the same time she picked up Katja, put her in the washing basket and ran to the well, then carefully lowered her down… thankfully Katja was asleep, and never knew a thing about it.”

 

“Where was your Pa?”

 

“He was with Ben - Ben Cartwright - clearing some land further afield.  Philip, my eldest brother, had ran into the barn and Luke had grabbed my hand to haul me along with him, but I was too frightened and my legs were shaking and my feet just wouldn’t move.  Mother came and picked me up and just as she was about to run across the yard the Bannock came.”

 

Reuben heaved a deep breath in and then slowly released it, his hazel eyes stared into her face “Were Uncle Luke and Phil scared?”

 

“Terrified, we all were,  Ma held me close in her arms and I remember looking at her face and knowing that my Ma was frightened and that made me even more scared than ever.  I wanted to cry but didn’t dare so the tears got stuck in my throat so that I could hardly breathe.  Phil and Luke had been caught by the barn, I remember one of the Indians had Luke by the shirt, and Phil picked up a pitchfork and ran at him in the hope of Luke being set free.  I don’t think I shall ever forget the fear I felt then and my Ma tried to run towards them crying out ’No, no …’”

 

Reuben swallowed hard, he could see from the way she was staring at the far wall that she was reliving that moment and so he squeezed her fingers “I would have been scared, Ma, really scared.”

 

She nodded and turned her head to look at him “We all were and I cuddled close into my Ma in the hope that they wouldn’t see me but then one of them came and pulled me away from her and I remember screaming for her, and then she just looked at me and said “Its alright, Livvy, it’s alright.””

 

“And then they took you away?”

 

“One of the men had dismounted, he walked towards Ma and reached out to touch her hair, he held it between his fingers for a long time and then turned to me and stared at me. I looked at him and he smiled, nodded his head and said something to the others so that they put down their weapons and just rode away …Luke and Phil and me, and my Ma … we were taken along with them.”

 

“And that’s when you lived with them?”

 

“Yes, we got to the camp and the villagers came and stared at us, and we were set down with Ma in the middle of the camp.  The Indian who had spoken was a chief, and he said something to another older man who nodded, and I just felt quite sure that everything was alright now.  Then some children came, we stared at each other for a while and then suddenly we were playing with them… there was nothing to be afraid of at all.” she laughed a little then, “Oh Phil and Luke loved it, there were no chores, they went fishing and playing with the boys, and I played with my little friends and in the evening we were with Ma.”

 

“And then you went home?”

 

“Some months passed before we went home to the Double D” the lightness of her voice faded, became serious and she sighed, bowed her head, then looked up to smile at him, “Life went back to some kind of normal.” 

 

For a moment neither of them spoke, then she squeezed his arm “Reuben, sometimes we have to face things in our lives that come upon us that can scare us very  much, even when we are grown up, even more so when we are small…or young … but we have to find courage to face them.  Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, Ma, I think so…” he replied rather doubtfully.  “Is - does that mean that - I mean - does - is the trial soon?”

 

She nodded “Yes, it will be on Tuesday.”

 

“And I’ll have to go to the court house?”

 

“Yes, my dear.  But Mr Woods is coming here to see you tomorrow, to talk to you and explain all about what will happen.   It’s to help you so that you won’t have anything to be fearful over.”

 

He frowned and looked away from her, then looked at his book “Pa would want me to be brave, wouldn’t he?”

 

“Pa would want you to be honest, Reuben, to tell the truth, that’s all.”

 

“Will Pa be home by then?”

 

Olivia shook her head, “I doubt it very much, darling.”

 

“But -” he paused, felt tears prickle behind his eyes “Will he be angry with me if I can’t walk?”

 

She smiled then, slowly but the smile came just as the tears welled up in her eyes despite her attempts to stop them “No, of course he won’t  be angry.  He loves you, Reuben, he loves you too much to be angry about something like that …”

 

Reuben nodded “I guess I’d better get to bed then.”

…………

 

Rachel Darrow had sobbed and cried until there were no tears left and her eyes had swollen shut.   She lay in the bed and shivered beneath the covers as though she had ague, her head ached intolerably and she longed to have some medication to take the pain away but worse than her head ache was the pain in her heart.

 

The doctor has assured her that she had not had a heart attack, that in fact her heart was very healthy.  He had explained to her that her aches and pains were due to the distress she had been caused by the cruel deception she had been put through by Alfred Stone.

 

She chewed on the corner of her handkerchief while her mind went over and over the scene of Stone’s confrontation with Candy and Sheriff Hayes.  The posturing protesting man had blustered away and protested his innocence to her while she was screaming and crying and begging him to forgive her for whatever it was she thought she had done wrong.  Then Hayes had pulled away all the false hair, forced Alfred to remove the disguise and she had watched him remove the false cheeks, the padding under the jacket, and then stand there before her a quite different man altogether.

 

A different man …she shivered and shook again at the memory of this stranger looking at her with those intense blue eyes that she had loved.  How could anyone have been so evil?  Then Candy had come back and explained to her all that this man, Harry Cochrane, had done in the past.  The ring on her finger had belonged to another woman, been used to lure others to their deaths with false promises and lies for the sake of the money they would give him.  Just as she had …

 

Worst than that was the fact that Roy had been right - again - and that in his stubborn way of proving himself right had nearly been killed.  Candy had shown her a telegram he had just received in reply to one he had sent to Dr Martin earlier, confirming that Roy was alive, but only just.

 

Only just! To think of it!!  Roy was nearly dead because of this wretched evil man whom she had loved and had been prepared to give her all ..not just the money but herself .. It didn’t bear thinking about but while she was thinking about it Rachel found more tears to shed.

 

Her head was burning with pain.  She couldn’t see out of her eyes and all she wanted to do was die, just simply quietly and inconveniently die like any heroine in a novel should .. And not only that, she was never going to set foot in Virginia City again, not for as long as she lived.   At that thought she burst into tears yet again.

…………….

 

Bridie Martin and Hester Cartwright smoothed down the sheet in the bed and plumped up the pillows before stepping to one side to allow Schofield and Hoss to very gently lift Roy up and lower him down into the bed.  Once he was comfortable they covered him over with the quilt, Bridie hovered by the bed while Hester lit a lamp close by while Hoss drew over the curtains.

 

It was pleasantly warm and cosy in the room with the soft glow of several lamps bringing light like so many little halo’s that were not too bright to harm the patients eyes, but enough to provide comfort upon his waking.   A light tap on the door and Paul Martin slipped into the room. “How is he ?” 

 

He had looked over at Bridie and it was Bridie who answered while Schofield washed his hands in the bowl filled for that purpose, Hester stood by her husbands side and looked thoughtfully at the ex-sheriff and squeezed Hoss’ hand as she wondered what things he was thinking about, what memories he would  have of the old man.

 

“I’ll stay and keep watch for this evening.” Paul said very quietly, “If that’s alright with you, Dr Schofield?”

 

“Perfectly perfectly…” Schofield muttered as he dried his hands “He’s healing well enough, he needs rest and care.  I believe Mrs Armitage is coming to watch over him from ten o’clock this evening until early morning, then Mr and Mrs Petrie followed by Mrs and Miss Garston.  It’s all in good hands…”  he picked up his hat, nodded his farewells and left the room, they heard his steps going down the stairs and the front door closing.

 

Bridie smiled rather thinly “He means well,” she said as though to answer all their unspoken questions about Schofields bedside manner, she kissed H       ester’s cheek “Thank you both for everything, we’ll let you know how he gets on.”

 

“You sure he’ll be alright soon?” Hoss demanded with his eyes still fixed on the pallid features of his old friend.”

 

Paul assured him that all would be well, Roy was no longer at risk and none of them need fear him dying on them anymore, well, not for a while anyhow. “He isn’t getting any younger, Hoss.”

 

With that reassurance in mind the younger couple left Paul and Bridie together to care for the ailing man in the bed.  “Shucks,” Hoss whispered to his wife “I’d hate for anything to happen to Roy, he’s like a member of the family.”

 

They closed the front door very quietly behind them and more or less tip toed away from the house.

 

Chapter 67

 

“The Senandoah

 

June 21 1877

 

Dearest sweetest Olivia

 

At last the chance to write to you before I set sail from here to Washington.  The mailbag will reach America before I do so this letter will arrive home before I land, but I couldn’t let this opportunity to slip by without letting you know that we have fulfilled what we were set out to do, and have only to return with our report and the person involved before I, at least, will be able to get back to you.

 

Here on the ship my crew and officers are all scribbling away frantically to their loved ones with the same hope as myself, that their letters finds everyone at home safe, and well.

 

This has not been an easy assignment, a challenging one and in a way I am not solely satisfied with its outcome, even though we have done what we were ordered to do.  Sometimes the old mantra ‘just obeying orders’ makes things easier to accept but there are other times when it just isn’t sufficient.  However, be that as it may, my dearest, it will soon be over.

 

Are you well?  How are the children?  I have thought of you so often over the past weeks, and then when it seemed I was becoming totally unmanned by my love and concerns for you all, I have had to switch off my thinking until it was impossible to prevent myself doing so again.

 

You would have been enthralled at some of the sights I have seen in the Brazilian wilderness … so much beauty alongside so much horror, but enough of that, suffice to say my mind recaptures the beautiful things about which I shall tell you all about when I get home.

 

The sea is calm and it is a pleasant trip homewards.  I pray all is well and be assured of my love and impatience to be back with you.

 

Enclosed are letters for Reuben and Sofia .. .. I guess Nathaniel has changed some since I last saw him?  I have written to Pa, and everyone at the Ponderosa.

 

I can’t wait to see you, Livvy, and hold  you close to me again, I have missed you so much, my dearest love.

 

Your husband..Adam.”

 

 

“Shenandoah

21^st June 1877

 

My dear son, Reuben

 

It won’t be long before I am home, son.  I have missed you a lot and have often wondered how you were getting on with Kamille and her colt. Has your Uncle Joe allowed you to ride her yet?  Have you thought of a name for the colt?

 

I have seen some wonderful things on this trip, Reuben, jaguars and alligators, the biggest snakes you can imagine, and once there was a time when I saw a whole mass of trees and the ground covered by butterflies, big with wide wingspans of luminous green, the whole place seemed to shimmer and then they all flew away in one great cloud.  It was a never to be forgotten moment.

 

But it has been a pretty dangerous place too, nothing pleasant about paddling a log boat with alligators sliding into the water and swimming up and alongside and always fearful that they would flip the boat over.  But we managed and are now safely on board ship.

 

I hope you are keeping up well with  your school work and that when I see  you again I will find you fit and well.  

 

Your everloving Pa”

 

 

“My dear Princess

 

I will be home soon, my dear.  When I get to Washington I shall send a cable to Ma and ask her to let me know what present you want from the big city. 

 

Are you keeping well and helping Ma with the baby?  Has Miss Brandon said when you can start school?  Perhaps you already go with Reuben … it seems a long time since I saw you, sweetheart.

 

It won’t be long before I am home. 

 

Your loving daddy …”

 

 

They read their letters over and over, smoothed out the paper upon which they were written and glanced up to smile at one another.  Reuben sighed with pleasure “He’ll be home soon.  Do you think he’ll be home by Tuesday?”

 

“I want him home now.” Sofia pouted, “Why can’t daddy come home now?”

 

“He’s probably still on that boat.” Reuben said, and frowned “I wonder what it looked like with all those butterflies? I wonder if there were more than a hundred there or maybe even a million?”

 

Olivia smiled over at them and for a moment her eyes lingered on both her children before looking over to the baby and thinking how indeed her husband would find little Nathaniel much changed.  The baby caught his mother’s eyes on him and gurgled with glee, dark eyes twinkling with pleasure and almost disappearing in the folds of his cheeks as he grinned and chuckled over at her.

“Well, it won’t be long before he’s home anyway.” she stated as she got to her feet and tucked the letter into her pocket, “We’ll have a lot to tell him, won’t we?”

 

Reuben nodded and turned his head away, a slight frown and downcast mouth chased the pleasure away “Ma, I haven’t seen Kamille and the colt for a long time now …  Pa will be annoyed with me, I promised to care for them with Uncle Joe.”

 

“You couldn’t help it, dear.  Perhaps -” she stopped and then with  a sigh turned away “I’ll get some thing for us to drink.  Perhaps we can write Pa a letter so that he has it at the hotel  where he stays.”

 

“Do you know where that is, Ma?” Reuben asked turning to look at her while Sofia ran immediately to the bureau to find paper and pencils, saying as she went that she was going to draw her daddy a picture of butterflies.

 

“Yes, dear, of course I know.”

 

Reuben watched her as she walked from the room, he could tell that she was worried, even though she kept her back straight and head high.  He looked at Sofia already happy in spreading out a sheet of paper on the table and concentrating on finding the sharpest pencil.  He looked down at his feet and felt miserable, how would his Pa feel on finding him like this?  Would he be ashamed? Angry?  Sofia looked up and smiled over at him

 

“Reuben, come and write a letter to Daddy.”

 

He sighed heavily and shook his  head, downcast he pushed the wheelchair away from the settee and then paused to stare at the bookcase, then at the fireplace … he looked over his shoulder to see Sofia, her tongue sticking out at the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on Pa’s letter.  In two days time it would be Tuesday, he blinked as his eyes filled with tears .. Just two more days.

……………

 

Ben Cartwright dipped his pen into the inkwell and paused a moment to gather his thoughts.  He pursed his lips, furrowed his brow and then slowly began to write …

 

“The Ponderosa

Nevada Territory”

 

“Dear Martha

 

I was more than sorry to receive your letter with the sad news relating to Julian.  He was, as you know, a dear friend, a loyal friend.  I shall miss him tremendously”  he paused and then crossed out that word and replaced it with “very much.  I knew that whenever I needed his help he always provided it, unstintingly.

 

“My dear, I am unable to attend the funeral on Tuesday as something of a serious concern has arisen here.  You may recall in one of my previous letters to you both I mentioned about the shooting incident at Reuben’s school and how he had been injured ?

 

The trial of the boy who shot down two of his students and injured Reuben is fixed for the same date as Julian’s funeral and although I would wish to be with you and many others of Julians’ friends I will not be able to attend.   My thoughts will be with you, however, as will my prayers.

 

It will not be an easy day, nor an easy time for you.  Julian and yourself have been together for many years and the bond you shared, the love that you wrapped around one another, will not be easily broken.  It will take time, my dear Martha, for life to ever appear normal again.

 

Should you at any time wish to come and spend a little time here on the Ponderosa with us, please always feel welcome.  My home is your home, please believe that …

 

With heartfelt sympathy

Ben”

 

He re-read it and after deciding it was fit for purpose slipped it into the envelope and sealed it.  After writing the address of Mrs Frobisher he set it to one side and then picked up another sheet of paper, dipped the pen into the ink and then stared at the blank whiteness that confronted him.. Well, he told himself, time to write as a father should to his son irregardless of the fact that no doubt his brothers and perhaps his wife would have written in exactly the same vein.

 

He wrote the address and date on the letter and paused, pen aloft and brow furrowed then after dipping the pen back into the inkwell he began

 

“My dear son,

 

I was more than overjoyed to receive your letter and to know that you were safe and en route to Washington.  Of course I would have preferred had you been heading to San Francisco and that instead of a letter we would have seen you home again.  But needs must and your orders have to be obeyed.

 

Son, theres no other way to say this but how it is … you are needed home, so don’t hang around and delay if at all possible because certain events have taken place here that require you to be back home with your wife and family.

 

No doubt Olivia has written to tell you all about the shooting incident at the school.  Reuben has recovered from his injuries but is unable to walk, Paul assures me that he will one day but that fear has caused problems… well, I can’t explain all that in a letter I don‘t understand half of what he was saying anymore than I ever could.  The boy needs you home. 

 

On Tuesday the trial will take place of the boy who shot Reuben and two other boys at the school.  There’s no doubt of his guilt, of course, but there may be mitigating circumstances that may be taken into consideration.   Homer tells me that nothing is guarantee’d after all he is only a  lad of 12.

 

Apart from that Roy Coffee was seriously injured by Harry Cochrane?  Remember him? You were in the posse that rode with Roy to arrest him years back.  I think he’ll hang now though.  His trial is set for the 22^nd …Wednesday.

 

This isn’t the best of letters to send to you, Adam, I’m sorry for that … but for all that wish only for you to be home again.

 

Your father

Ben Cartwright.”

 

…………….

 

Far out at sea the Shenandoah dipped into the waves and pushed her way through the seas.  On the bridge Adam Cartwright stood with his face towards the coastal line of his country coming into view.  He heaved in a deep breath of relief, not long and he would  be walking on American soil again.

 

Jotham Morton entered the bridge and glanced around him, nodded at Beamish and then approached Adam “Everything alright, Commodore?”

 

Adam said nothing for a moment, then he nodded “All’s well” he replied and kept his face turned towards the approaching land.

 

Chapter 68

 

The court room was prepared by late Monday evening when Candy did his final check that everything was in order.  It had seemed to have been a long time in coming but at last the families of the bereaved were about to get some form of justice for their sons.  All the weeks he had had young Leslie in his cell he still had been unable to get the boy to realise the seriousness of the charges against him, or to get him to explain the reason why he had acted in such a manner.

 

He still worried about whether or not he had acted fairly towards the boy, after all, that was what he was, just a boy.   Candy rubbed his fingers across his jaw line and stared at the trappings of law in that court room, and then with a sigh made his way from the building to his home.

 

The Judge had arrived earlier that day, his clerk had collected all the relevant papers and had taken them to the judge’s room almost immediately upon arrival.  Candy had met him briefly when he had been asked to bring the Defending and Proscecuting counsel to his rooms in order to discuss the case.

 

Judge Hardy was not the elderly Judge whom Candy had thought would be hearing the case, that gentleman had been ill with gout and unable to take on the responsibility of the Circuit work, appointing Hardy instead.  Judge Hardy was much younger and ambitious with an eye to making a name for himself.  He had seen this case as a means to get noticed, a murderer of 12 years of age was sure to capture the attention of newspapers everywhere.

 

He was however thorough, as both Whiley and Woods were to confirm to their respective clients.  Candy was warned to expect Cochrane’s case to be put back for at least a week to give everyone time to prepare once Watts, Watson and Cartwright v Downing had been concluded.

 

 Due to the age of the Defendant Judge Hardy had ordered that the case be heard ‘in camera’  that meant a closed court, which didn’t please anyone apart from those actually involved in the trial.  De Quille was fuming, he had hoped to make a lot of money from the sale of the ‘hot news’ the trial would elicit.  Hardy wasn’t that pleased either, it narrowed his chances of becoming famous quite a bit if no one was to hear about the proceedings, but he knew from long experience how often the more salacious aspects of a trial ‘leaked’ out to the public.

 

The Watts arrived with the Watson family followed by Lydia Brandon and her fiance, and the families of the children who would be called as witnesses.  The Cartwrights came but the court usher told them only Ben could enter the court room with Olivia and Reuben.  Finally the Downings came and were led to a separate room away from the witnesses and victims of the atrocity.

 

Leslie Downing cut a sorry figure as he sat alone on the bench for all those present to stare at and wonder over.   He held his head down and sometimes during the examination he was seen to wipe his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his jacket.  Mrs Downing was glassy eyed with exhaustion and misery, she constantly looked over at her son whom she had made sure was wearing his very best suit.  He had lost weight while in the cells and although it made him look fitter, to his mother’s eyes he looked like a lost soul wasting away to nothing.

 

Mr Downing sat straight back and red faced, every so often during the cross examination of the childrens evidence he looked as though he was going to burst, several times he jumped up and had to be pulled down onto his seat by his wife and Mr Whiley. 

 

One by one the children testified to what they had seen and heard, their young voices shrill in denunciation as they confirmed the fact that they knew Leslie had known the gun was loaded.  One boy stated that Leslie had  been asked if it was loaded and had replied ‘What would have been the point of bringing it to school if it wasn’t.”

 

Leslie squealed in protest “I never did say that…”

 

“You did too..” the boy yelled back and Hardy had to bang his gavel for order while the boy was led away leaving Leslie red faced and crying.

 

Candy watched the proceedings with a sinking feeling in his chest.  The children had been so sure of their facts, and of course they would have been, such an action that had taken place that afternoon would be indelibly imprinted on their young minds.  Leslie was a woeful figure in the ‘dock’, staring around him, lowering his head and weeping or just looking intently at his parents as though to say ’You’re adults, get me out of here…’

 

Lydia Brandon gave her evidence in a clear voice, the shock of the event had worn off now and she was definite in what she had to say.  Whiley tried to make her statement sound less harmful but she wasn’t prepared to be sidetracked into watering down what had happened.

 

When she came to the part of her evidence about Jamie Watt running to tell her that Leslie had a gun her voice wobbled and she looked sadly over at the boys’ parents as Mrs Watts sudden sob broke into the quietness in the room where only Lydia’s voice had been heard.

 

Then Reuben was called to the witness stand and with a pale but determined face he rose to his feet and leaning upon Candy’s arm walked to the stand.

 

Olivia felt tears welling up and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief while Ben groped and found her hand to give it a gentle squeeze.  Reuben looked over at her and smiled, he had done it, whatever else happened that day, he had walked and proven to himself that he wasn’t afraid after all.

 

He gave his name and age and answered the questions in a clear voice.  Mr Whiley had asked the questions first and hadn’t seemed too happy at the answers, he was losing any chance of gaining any mitigating evidence that would lessen the sentence for his client.

 

“Did you know that Leslie had a gun?”

 

“No, sir, not at first.  Not until I heard them saying he had and then I saw him with it in his hand.”

 

“What did you do then?”

 

“I told Jamie to tell Miss Brandon.”

 

“Couldn’t you have done that?”

 

Reuben lowered his head a little and thought about it, he sighed “No, sir.”

 

“Why not?   After all, if you had gone to Miss Brandon perhaps James Watt would still be alive today?”

 

Reuben looked at his mother then at Leslie who was crying, tears streamed down his cheeks, and Mrs Watts was sobbing, trying to muffle the sounds in her handkerchief.

 

“I couldn’t, sir, Leslie was looking at me and staring and I was frightened to move. My legs wouldn’t move and David had said he‘d deal with it, and I was to stand still and -and so I did..”

 

“Perhaps if you had told Leslie to put the gun down he would have listened to you, after all, you were school pals, he wouldn’t have really wanted to hurt you?”

 

Reuben shook his head and looked at Mr Whiley as though the man were mad, who ever had told him that Leslie and he were friends were wrong, they had lied, “No, that’s not so,  Leslie wasn’t my friend, he hated me, he was always ganging up on me and Jamie. He was looking at me with that gun in his hand and I knew he was going to shoot me, I knew it…”

 

“How could you have known he had any such intention, young man?” Whiley’s voice said dismissively

 

“Because - he shot Jamie and then he pointed the gun at David, in his face, just shot him and David fell down and then he was looking at me with the gun pointed at me and his eyes - his eyes were telling me I was next so I turned and I ran as fast as I could -” he stopped, his heart was pounding, his knees knocking together so that he was glad he was sitting down even though the edge of the chair was cutting painfully into his legs.

 

Hiram Woods asked him questions next so that Reuben was able to explain about how Leslie bullied him and some of the younger ones, how he had  been shot but hadn’t realised it but had kept running.  He explained how ill he had been and how his legs hadn’t worked properly for a long time.

 

Finally his ordeal was over, Judge Hardy even leaned down to thank him for his clear evidence and he was walking back to his seat beside his Ma.  He looked at Leslie Downing who was blowing his nose and didn’t look like the fearsome monster of his dreams, just a boy who had suddenly become very frightened indeed.

 

After a brief recess everyone returned to the court room for the evidence or rather, the cross examination of the Defendant, Leslie Downing.   The boy cut a sorry figure as he walked pass all those who had given evidence, the grieving parents, his own parents who looked pale faced and stared at him with wide wet eyes.

 

“Leslie, you know who I am, don’t you?” Whiley said with more kindness in his voice that had been there during the morning session.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Would you tell us how old  you are?”

 

“I’m twelve years and two months old.” Leslie said quietly and was told to repeat it because no one could hear at the back.

 

“Were you popular at school?”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Did you have a lot of friends?”

 

“Yeah, some…” Leslie shrugged, and looked woodenly over at the children seated on the benches in front of him.

 

“Can you explain to the court why you took the gun into school that day?”

 

Leslie frowned, he had been asked that question so often that he knew the answer by heart but now, in a court room with a stern faced Judge, and the others there looking at him, he felt awkward, he fidgeted and rubbed his face with his hand.

 

“Well, you see, Don Murhpy said his Pa had a gun that was kept in a drawer and that it had belonged to Jesse James.  I said that weren’t true.  But he said it was so I said to him ‘Well, then, bring it to school and prove it.’  But he didn’t so I said he was lying but he said that his Pa told him he’d get a thrashing if he touched it. So I told him I had a gun at home that belonged to my Gran’pa, and that’s why I brung it to school because I didn’t want the kids to think I was lying.”

 

“Did you know it was loaded?” 

 

There was a sudden tension in the room, the Judge looked over his spectacles at Leslie and the faces of everyone seemed to harden, the eyes glared hate filled and hungry at the boy and he swallowed hard because his mouth had gone dry  “I - I didn’t think it was loaded.”

 

It wasn’t good enough an answer, Hiram Woods immediately stood up and asked loudly “Did you or did you not KNOW it was loaded?”

 

Whiley then protested that Woods could ask his questions when he had finished his own cross examination and Judge Hardy advised Hiram to sit down and wait his turn.  He banged his gavel again and Leslie jumped nervously, everyone there could see he was as nervous as a cat.

 

“The children have testified that you fired the gun at point blank range at David Watson…can you explain why you did that, Leslie?”

 

“David was one of the older boys in the class, he was always telling us what to do, he told me to put the gun down in his usual bossy way of talking and that really riled me up some.  He was standing there with a smirk on his face as though he thought I was an idiot.  I just wanted him to go away but at the same time I didn’t want him to think I was frightened of him. I just squeezed the trigger and next thing I knew he fell down…”

 

“Did you purposely shoot to kill David?”

 

“No, I didn’t.”

 

“What about Jamie Watts?  Can you explain why you fired at him?”

 

“I don’t know,” Leslie looked bewildered as though he had never heard about this before, he looked at Mr and Mrs Watts “I don’t know, I had the gun in my hand and I guess I was scared and just fired it but I didn’t think it would hit Jamie, he just ran into the bullet.”

 

“So you didn’t deliberately aim to kill him.”

 

“No, sir.”

 

Leslie looked over at Mr and Mrs Watts again, neither of them were crying now, they were just staring at him as though they wished he was hanging from a tree already.

 

“So really it was an accident that caused Jamie to die that day?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Now, what about Reuben Cartwright?  He claims that you bullied him a lot at school, was that true?”

 

“I didn’t think I was bullying him.  Just playing around and larking about really.”

 

“So you didn’t hate him at all, or make him feel frightened of you?”

 

“No, ‘course not.”

 

“Why do you think he thought you were bullying him?  Didn’t he try and retaliate once?”

 

Leslie allowed a faint grin to emerge among the tears, he nodded “Yeah, he and Jamie, they were going to ambush me on the way home from school with their slingshots, but I was too quick for ‘em. I got home before they expected me to and they smashed Pa’s store window instead.  Boy, was Pa mad, but he got Mr Cartwright to pay for it and …” he stopped, something in the way Whiley was looking at him warned him that he was saying too much

 

“Did you deliberately aim the gun at Reuben Cartwright and shoot him?”

 

“No, sir.” Leslie lowered his eyes and when he raised them again he was staring at Reuben  “No, not on purpose.  It just happened.  When he ran away I didn‘t think I had shot him.”

 

Whiley nodded and sat down.  Judge Hardy looked at Hiram Woods and said ‘Your witness.’

 

“Leslie, you do know how serious this whole business is, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“And you know that if you tell a lie while you are answering any of our questions you would be committing what is called Perjury … that’s a serious offence .. Has Mr Whiley explained that to you?”

 

Leslie shot a glance at Whiley who inclined his head so Leslie said “Yes, sir.”

 

“When you took the gun from the drawer, was there a box of cartridges with it?”

 

Leslie blinked and tried to remember, he nodded “Yes, sir.”

 

“Did you touch them at all?”

 

“What for?”

 

“To load the pistol with perhaps?”

 

Whiley jumped up “Objection … Mr Woods is leading the witness to incriminate himself.  He‘s putting words into the child‘s mouth.”

 

Hardy raised his eyebrows, Mr Whiley was certainly making good use of his ace card, which was Leslie’s age… “A little more care, Mr Woods.”

 

Hiram bowed his head and looked again at Leslie  “Leslie, did you know the gun had been loaded?  That it still had bullets in it?”

 

Leslie gave a sigh, more like a grunt, as though he were tired of being asked the same questions all the time, he shook his head “I didn’t touch the cartridges, I didn’t think the gun was loaded.  The first time I squeezed the trigger nothing happened, so I thought…”

 

“Nothing happened the first time you fired?”

 

“No, so when I pulled the trigger again I didn’t think it would shoot anyone.”

 

Hiram looked at the boy thoughtfully, no one had mentioned that he had fired a blank first of all, this could be the very thing that would shift the case in his favour.  He could see Whiley scribbling away, and knew that it hadn’t come up before in cross examination and that Whiley was going to make the most of it.  He walked away from Leslie and towards the audience of witnesses and bereaved …he could feel their discomfort and unease.  He then casually asked if he had liked David and Jamie and Reuben.

 

“They were alright, they weren’t my friends though.  David was always telling me what to do as if I were an idiot, Jamie just tagged along with Reuben because …” he paused and remembered that there were some things he had been warned not to say.  But Woods noticed and prompted him to go on “He liked Reuben because he was a Cartwright.”

 

“Was there something wrong with being  a Cartwright?” Hiram asked with raised eyebrows.

 

“I guess not, Jamie thought it did though.”

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“Well, Cartwrights have been around since forever, haven’t they? They own a lot of land and my Pa says that they’re really rich.  My Pa says ..”

 

“Objection…” Whiley stood up “What Mr Downing says has no relevancy to this trial.”

 

“Sustained.  Mr Woods, keep the questions relevant to the case in hand.”

 

“So, when you fired the gun and nothing happened did you think that the gun was safe?  That it had no bullets?”

 

“I guess so.”

 

“Pip Underwood testified that you bragged about it being loaded, you said that there wasn’t any point in bringing an unloaded gun to school…  why did you say that if you thought the gun was unloaded?”

 

Leslie frowned, he shook his head “I didn’t say so.”

 

Hiram sighed and then walked to his desk from which he picked up a pistol “This look familiar to you, Leslie?”

 

“It’s a gun.”

 

“It’s the gun you took to school.  Now, would you like to stand up and take hold of the gun, and show us how you held it when it ‘went off’.”

 

Whiley fidgeted, he looked anxiously over at the Downings and then at the boy who was standing up now holding the gun.  Woods nodded “Hold it how you had it when David Watson stood just so close to you …” and he walked up and stood opposite Leslie “Was he this close?”

 

Leslie nodded and raised the gun, but Hiram shook his head “You’d have to raise the gun higher, Leslie. David was a tall boy for his age, his Pa tells me he was as tall as I am so - a little higher - now look at the gun, what can you see?”

 

Whiley jumped up “Judge  - Objection …”

 

Judge Hardy raised a hand for silence and nodded to Woods to proceed with the cross examination.  “Look at the gun, Leslie, what can you see?”

 

Leslie looked along his arm to his hand and to the pistol.. He could see the way his fingers held the handle, he could see the chamber where the bullets would be put,  he could see that the chambers were empty and then he could see the barrel with the sight, he shifted his gaze to look at Hiram  “There ain’t no bullets  in the gun.”

 

“How can you tell?”

 

Leslie wrinkled his nose and shrugged “’Cos I couldn’t see ‘em in the chamber.”

 

“Did you notice that when you held that gun and fired at Jamie, at David and Reuben?”

 

Hiram took the pistol and weighed it in his hand for a moment before setting it down on the desk.  Then he turned to the boy “You didn’t like Reuben Cartwright because your Pa didn’t like the Cartwrights…”he turned to Whiley “No point in objecting to that statement, the fact is that children are influenced by how their parents talk about folk.  Mr Downing has never kept it a secret in town about how he feels about that family. You resented David Watson for telling you what to do and after you shot Jamie -” he paused and looked at the audience “One bullet felled Jamie Watts, whether the accused knew the gun was loaded or not is no longer in debate, he knew that there was every chance of the gun being loaded when he shot David Watson in the face, and then aimed and fired it at Reuben.”

 

Leslie said nothing, he sat there and the tears trickled down his face, his fat lips blubbered, he blinked rapidly in order to see anything at all …Hiram turned to him “I am sorry, Leslie, you may have been ignorant when you fired the bullet that killed Jamie, but you can’t claim the same for the bullets you fired thereafter.”

 

Judge Hardy banged the gavel and looked at the two lawyers, then at the bereaved, the children… he nodded to Candy who came and stood beside the witness stand where Leslie was still sitting.  Judge Hardy stood up “Because of your age, Leslie Downing, there has been no jury called to hear this trial.  It is my legal duty and responsibility to pass judgement upon you … do you understand?”

 

Candy indicated that Leslie had to stand up, which he did his mouth open and his eyes blinking at the judge “Leslie Downing, after hearing the evidence from these witnesses and from your own mouth I declare you guilty of the charges  brought against you.”

 

There was a ripple of sound around the court room, some weeping, whispering, the rustle of womens skirts …the Judge frowned and sighed “I find you guilty on the charge of deliberate murder in the case of David Watson. You are guilty on the charge of the accidental death of Jamie Watt.  You are guilty on the charge of attempted murder  of Reuben Cartwright.  In view of your age I shall have to take time to consider the sentence.   Court will re-convene tomorrow morning to hear sentence passed.” 

 

The gavel fell, the usher announced “All stand.” and Judge Hardy left the court room

 

Chapter 69

 

Olivia looked down at Reuben with an immense surge of so many conflicting emotions within her, her hand lightly brushed over his face as he looked up at her “Well done, son,  you did so well.”

 

“My legs were kinda funny, Mom.  But I did it, didn’t I?  I walked over there by my own, didn’t I?”

 

She smiled, a rather tremulous smile and nodded, he was still such a child, just a little boy.  She looked up and met Ben’s eyes and noticed there was moisture there which he didn’t hide from her for his heart had been in his mouth when the child had stood up and walked over to the stand.

 

Parents were leading their children away, hardly anyone spoke, the whole room seemed saturated with tension and a combination of relief and misery.  Mr and Mrs Watts went away weeping, his arm around his wife’s shoulders and the Watsons were looking hard faced with  hatred at the Downings who were grouped around Jacob Whiley’s desk while Leslie sat, abandoned, with only Clem standing by his side.

 

Andrew Downing turned towards the Cartwrights now, his face was pale with blobs of red rouging his cheeks, he resembled a rather distraught clown, a rather frightening one and Reuben stepped back behind his mother as the man’s eyes bore down on him “Well, you soon recovered  yourself, didn’t you, you little weasel.  Only too quick to come and tell all, weren’t you?  I’m surprised they didn’t recommend you use your wheelchair to get the sympathy vote and wring some more -” he stopped when his wife placed a hand on his arm and Whiley made shush-ing noises to prevent him venting his spleen any further.

 

Ben stepped forward with his fists clenched and his mouth fixed in that stubborn way that meant he was liable to connect his fist with Downings jaw, but managed to stop himself. He put a protective hand on Reuben’s shoulder and just murmured “Come along, son.”

 

Reuben kept close to his grandfather’s legs, peeking over at the Downings as they passed.  Hiram Woods called over to Ben which stopped them leaving the room as the two men went into a quiet conversation leaving Olivia standing beside her son.  Reuben tugged at her sleeve “Ma, Lesley looks awful scared.”

 

Olivia glanced over her shoulder at where the boy was still seated his eyes red rimmed and his lips trembling while he stared intently at his parents willing them to pay him some attention.  She then looked at the Downings and wondered why it was that they didn’t go to their sons aid, he was obviously suffering.  Candy had now approached Clem and they were talking together so that Leslie seemed even more isolated.  Reuben tugged again at his mothers’ sleeve “Can I talk to him?”

 

“Do you want to?” she was leaning down towards him, their whispered conversation unnoticed “Do you want me to come with you?  Will you be able to walk over there on your own?”

 

Reuben thrust out his lower lip, so reminiscent of one of Adams mannerisms that Olivia had to blink fast to not get teary eyed.  He nodded “I can walk, Ma, I’ve been practising and practising, haven’t I?”

 

True enough, ever since that letter had come from Adam the boy had seemed resolved to get up and use his legs.  More than once he had faltered, staggered and fallen, but doggedly straightened the legs and set off again.  She had heard him walking around his bed at night and even early in the morning when she peeked around the door she had seen him in his night shirt, a little figure pacing the floor and it wrung her heart as she remembered the terrible time when Adam had done the same during that long and painful time when Jimmy Chang had been treating his leg

 

How grateful she had been that Hop Sing and Cheng Ho Lee had insisted on those exercises, and  how thankful that those letters had arrived, like divine providence, at such a pivotal time in these proceedings.  She had hugged him and kissed him, and wept, which made Reuben cry as well and then Sofia came in and wailed at the sight of them, Olivia on her knees hugging Reuben and both of them crying.

 

“I had to get better, Ma, I had to … Pa would want me to be riding Kamille and looking after her and the colt.  He’d be expecting me to be helping with chores as well…” and he had cried and laughed and so had she and then Sofia had began to dance around the bedroom with Clarabelle being swung by a raggedy arm  in the air.

 

So now Olivia nodded and stood up, gave her son a pat on the back and stepped aside for him to walk to where Leslie sat… Candy turned and was about to stop him, but then looked over at Olivia, nodded and allowed him through.  Leslie remained with his head down, although he did raise a hand to brush away some tears.  Reuben stood closer and placed a hand on the wooden railing that ran the top of the stand where the boy was seated.  “Hi Leslie …”

 

“What do you want?  Come to gloat?”

 

Reuben shook his head, unseen by the other boy who now looked up at him “Thought you were in a wheelchair?”

 

“I was.”

 

“How come you’re walking then?”

 

“’Cause I can.”

 

Leslie scowled and lowered his head again, Reuben stood for a moment wondering what to say “You scared?”

 

Leslie sniffed several times and then wiped his nose on the back of his hand, he nodded “Pa said they might hang me.”

 

Reuben swallowed hard and looked over at Candy who was keeping at a discreet distance but listening to everything that was being said, as was Clem.  Olivia had joined Ben and Hiram who were making a pretence of discussing something while they kept an anxious eye over at the boys and at the Downings still deep in discussion with Whiley.

 

“They won’t hang you, Leslie …”

 

“How’d you know?” Leslie sniffed again and blinked “You don’t know nothing, you don’t know what that Judge might do.”

 

“They might just send you to prison.”

 

“I didn’t mean to kill anyone though.” the boy whined “I know I fired the gun but I thought -  I didn’t think they’d die - I didn’t know - I mean - once the gun went off like that I just couldn’t stop from firing it, Reuben, and I thought … they’d get back up again.”

Reuben bowed his head and thought of Jamie, the little boy who had just gasped ‘Oh’ and fallen down, had bounced as he hit the ground with his arms and legs all floppy and blood drops splattering the dust.  He looked at Leslie “Don’t be scared, Leslie.”

 

“Easy for you to say.” Leslie whispered and then he firmed his lips and looked at the younger boy “Anyway, it’s alright for you, you’re a Cartwright.  Pa always said everything turns out good for Cartwrights.”

 

Reuben said nothing to that, he could tell by the boys eyes that there was no longer any time for sympathy, or consolation, there was the familiar look in Leslie’s eyes that made Reuben step back and regretfully return to his mother’s side.

 

Candy put a hand on Leslie’s shoulder “Come on, son.”

 

“Where you taking me?” Leslie whispered as though he could already see the gallows before him.

 

“Back to the cells.”  Candy replied and although his heart had initially softened during the course of the conversation the two boys had had, he remembered that his little girl, Rosie, could have been one of the victims that day, and still had nightmares  having seen David Watson shot in the face and falling dead to the ground.

 

……………..

 

The family had remained in town for the remainder of the day and stayed at the Hotel Internationale overnight in order to be available at the court house for the sentencing of twelve year old Leslie Downing for the murder of David Watson and James Watt, and the malicious shooting with intent to kill of Reuben Cartwright.

 

This time the Judge did permit the court room to be opened to members of the public and the press.  Daniel De Quille had his note book open and was already scribbling down views and opinions as people entered and took their seats.  He wrote how the families of the victims  were led to designated seats and how the women were dressed and how they looked, he described how Reuben Cartwright had walked - alone and unaided - to his seat, adding a brief reference to how the boy had been in a wheelchair since recovering from his injuries.

 

The Judge entered and the gavel fell, “Be upstanding … Judge Hardy presiding over Watson, Watts and Cartwright versus Downing.”

 

There was the rustle of dresses and subdued murmur of voices as everyone stood up, eyes slanted in the direction of Hardy and then over to the boy who stood in the dock.  Leslie may have been a big built twelve year old, but for some reason he seemed to have shrunk and many a mothers heart went out to him before they turned to look upon the haggard faces of the mothers who had lost their children due to the accused.  The reason they were all there once again hardened their hearts.

 

 

Judge Hardy looked at the assembled crowd and then at the families of the bereaved, his eyes dwelt a little while upon the poor child whose sentence he was about to pronounce. He had spent long and deliberate hours pouring over the statements and courtroom notes taken down by the Clerk.  He had wondered how sentencing to hang a 12 year old would affect his future, he wanted to become famous but not in the same way as Federal Judge Isaac Parker who had the nickname of the Hanging Judge, having executed over 70 men, women and children during his time at Fort Smith*.   He cleared his throat and in a strong voice made a small precise speech about the case in which he concluded:

 

“Death of a child is always heart rending, their loss irreparable and this court offers its deepest sympathies to Mr and Mrs Watts for the death of their only child, and to Mr and Mrs Watson for the death of a young man on the threshold of his future.  We are truly thankful that we do not have the death of another child upon our hands and that young Reuben Cartwright survived his injuries, the physical ones at least.

 

“Death of children by another child though brings about it a spectre from which we cannot escape.  Can we really and truly believe that a child who takes a gun from his home and secrets it to his school, does not have the intention to use it?   Can we really and truly be sure that when taking that gun from the drawer of his parents home he did not know it was loaded?  We cannot believe that a child raised in this territory is ignorant of the result of firing a loaded gun at point blank range at any target.

 

“We find Leslie Downing guilty of the murder of James Watt and David Watson.  Guilty of intent to kill Reuben Cartwright.   Whether or not these murders or killings were premeditated has reasonable doubt.

 

“Now herein is the difficulty … as Federal Judge of this territory I have the full authority to sentence you, Leslie Downing, to death by hanging.  Were you a few years older there would be no doubt of that sentence being carried out at dawn tomorrow morning.  However, you are but twelve years old and reasonable doubt could be considered to various aspects of this case.

 

“I hereby sentence  you, Leslie Downing, to a life imprisonment at the Yuma State Penitentiary with hard labour.  Life imprisonment means this :  99 years for the life of James Watt, 99 years for the life of David Watson and 50 years for the intended killing of Reuben Cartwright, to run concurrently.”

 

A murmur trickled through the court, it resembled the sounds a train makes as it slows to enter a station.  Mrs Downing was sobbing loudly while her husband sat as though unable to move, frozen literally to the spot with shock.  Hardy banged down the gavel “Sentence has been passed and will be carried out immediately.  There will be no appeal.  Sheriff, take the prisoner away.”

 

Leslie was forced to stand  upright as the Judge left the building, Candy could feel the boy trembling as he stepped forward to put the handcuffs on him.  “Pa.  Ma.”

 

The cry sounded like the bleatings of a lamb about to be taken from the flock, his cry floated over the heads of those assembled. Olivia, Mary Ann and Bridie were crying, wiping their eyes with their handkerchiefs as were many other women. Hester and some who kept the facts closer in mind stood and stared without expression as the boy was led away, followed by Whiley and the store keeper and his wife.

 

It was all over now.  People left the court room, trickling away and returning to their daily lives, some too numbed and shocked to talk about it, others wanting to talk in order to make sure the facts were right in their minds.  Mr and Mrs Watts gravitated over to Olivia and Reuben and Ben, whispering their comments, shaking their heads and the women weeping together.   David Watsons parents and siblings marched out of the court room straight backed and ashen faced, whether or not they felt justice had eluded them no one knew for sure.

 

Reuben thought he would never forget the sight of Leslie Downing being led away in handcuffs.  He watched the boy all the way until Leslie turned and looked back at him, those same hate filled hard eyes glaring at him, that same cold grin…Reuben turned his head away, he knew that had Leslie held a gun in his hand at that moment he, Reuben Cartwright, would be dead, no running to escape this time.

 

Chapter 70 

 

The officers on the bridge of the Shenandoah stood in silence as they watched the coffin being taken down the gangway to the waiting vehicle on the quayside.  As a mark of respect the ships company had been ordered to turn out in their best uniforms and stand in silence as the coffin had been taken from the hold and passed along the decks to be taken away from the vessel.

 

They stood with legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind them and straight backed with chins held high with eyes straight ahead.  From the bridge Adam, Jotham and Beamish watched and after looking briefly at one another as though to confirm the deed was done, they separated.  

 

Adam went to his cabin to collect the necessary documents relating to this latest assignment, the death certificate signed by Euan, ships’ doctor, and after picking up his hat, hurried to the upper deck in order to meet with Jotham who had gone to his cabin for the same papers relating to his area of the assignment.

 

Beamish presented himself with a salute “Ships company awaiting orders, Captain?”

 

Adam nodded and followed his first lieutenant to the deck where the men were assembled. As a body they turned to him, eyes fixed on him, faces stern.  Everyone glad the trip was over, the coffin had gone, but anxious now about any forthcoming changes which could occur now the ship was back in Washington.  Adam gave them a brief speech of thanks, dispersed them back to their duties and then turned to Beamish “The ships yours, Beamish.   I shouldn’t be gone long -.” he paused and looked at Jotham before returning to look at the younger officer “Thank you, Beamish, you did very well on this trip.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” Beamish relaxed a little, allowed a smile to touch his lips and saw a brighter future ahead of him as a result of his Captains commendation.

 

Jotham gave him a brief nod in passing, both men were too similar to ever become close friends but had a mutual respect, the older man appreciating the years he had known Adam while the younger had only just began that particular voyage.

 

They were piped from the ship and made their way to where a carriage was awaiting them.  Beamish watched them enter the vehicle and saw the door close upon them, as he watched it roll away he became aware of Euan Macpherson standing by his side with a slightly anxious look on his face “Anything wrong, Doctor?”

 

“No, nothing, I’m just annoyed at not being here to see them off.”

 

Beamish shrugged “The Captain said they’d not be gone long, Doctor.”

 

“Did he?” Euan nodded his head slowly, “Well, that’s good.” he murmured almost to himself and stood beside Beamish until the carriage had disappeared from sight.

 

Neither Adam nor Jotham said a word on the journey, both deep in thought and aware that their escort was watchful of their every move and action.  Adam stared down at the floor between  his feet and went over the last few hours -  the tugs coming out to tow the Shenandoah to her berth, the sails being taken up and cleated.  They had seen the military escort waiting for their arrival, the one to take the coffin or prisoner to his destination and another for them.  He stroked his upper lip thoughtfully as he wondered who he would be seeing this time, certainly not Fish nor Grant, they were figures from the past now.  Remembered, perhaps, by their policies, food for history buffs, but as human beings their use was over.   In Great Britain when a King died it was a case of ‘Long Live the King’ as the new replaced the old, in America it was a case of business as usual and little point in grieving over a man who held his position for a mere 4 - or in Grants case - 8 years.

 

Jotham sat as though carved in granite as he thought over the last conversation he had had with the Commodore, a resume of facts relating to the case of Howard Jefferson, what would be said and what would be forgotten even should any question be raised with regard to certain topics.  He went through the kind of questions that would be asked of him and repeated his rehearsed answers, as Adam had said, they needed to represent the same case from their own personal viewpoints.  He sighed and stretched out his legs, glanced at the officer seated opposite who was to escort them to their superior officers, and nodded his head before glancing out of the window to watch the bustle of a typical afternoon in Washington.

 

“Seems strange to be on land again,” he muttered and beside him Adam grunted in agreement, “Takes a while to get used to it.”

 

He watched a woman walking with her children into a florists and wondered what she would be doing for the rest of the day, then he remembered that Adam would be thinking, no doubt, of his own family and he glanced sidelong over at the other officer but there was no indication of what was passing through Adams mind so he nodded again at the other occupant of the carriage and continued watching as the street passed by.

 

When they came to a halt the officer, Captain Henry Williams, leaned across Jotham and pushed open the door, stumbled across their feet and once he had gained the street stood by the door and saluted “Ready to escort you gentlemen, if you would follow me?”

 

Their feet echoed along the corridors of the vast state building, doors opened and closed, civilians and military as well as naval personnel came and went.  Those of lesser rank saluted the group of three officers and continued with their assigned tasks, it was like, Adam mused, a gigantic ant hill, everyone busy doing something.

 

Henry Williams paused at a door where two armed guards flanked each side, he pushed it open “If you would wait here, Captain Morton.    Commodore, if you would follow me?”

 

Adam didn’t even glance in Jothams direction but followed Williams along the corridor, which was now richly carpeted, to a familiar door which was opened by one of the guards outside.   He followed the other officer who stopped, stepped aside and saluted him “If you would just wait here, Commodore.”

 

Adam nodded, listened as Williams left the room and closed the door behind him.  He removed his hat and looked around him thoughtfully, then sighed as the subtle changes of the new regime touched his senses.  No familiar smell of Grants cigar smoke, no sight of Sherman, or Sheridan or Custer.  The map that had caused such controversy years back had been replaced by a very expensive original painting by  Antonio Canaletto, and the décor of the room had been changed although the desk remained an impressive reminder of the many who had sat behind it.

 

He turned immediately he sensed that someone had entered the room and recognised William Evarts,  Secretary of State who was standing by the concealed door in the wall. Adam acknowledged him and waited for the man to approach while he wondered if the President would make an appearance behind him.  Evarts closed the door and turned to observe the other man, after a moment he allowed a brief smile and nodded to a chair “Sit down, Commodore.   It’s good to see you again.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” Adam sat down and glanced at the desk behind which he had only ever seen Grant seated.  Evarts noticed and smiled again but said nothing, instead he reached out for the documents Adam had under his arm and upon taking them put them down on the desk.

 

“How did you like Brazil?”

 

“Not much.”

 

“Too hot?”

 

“Too much of everything I dislike most … insects, snakes, alligators …”  Adam sighed, “And it was hot.”

 

Evarts smiled “well, I guess discomfort comes with the job.”

 

“I guess it does.” Adam replied hoping he didn’t sound too cynical, he glanced around the room and then stood up, Evarts frowned and asked him if the chair wasn’t comfortable to which Adam said he preferred to stand.

 

He watched for a few moments as Evarts read the report Adam had so diligently written out, then he read the Death Certificate whereupon he frowned and looked up at Adam with a stern look that reminded the Commodore of his head master at college.  Adam quirked an eyebrow “A problem, Mr Evarts?”

 

“Just a pity that Mr Jefferson died while on board ship.”

 

“It’s a pity Professor Jefferson died at all, sir.  He was a fine man.”

 

“Oh, you liked him?” Evarts now leaned against the desk and folded his arms across his chest while he gave Adam the full benefit of a dark scrutiny.

 

“Yes, I did.” Adam sighed and shrugged “He was a sick man, had been for a while. Malnutrition didn’t help, nor did the climate.  Dr Macpherson did all he could to save him but he was halfway dead when he came on board ship anyway.  I liked his dedication to his work, he was an enthusiast for all things ancient.”

 

Evarts nodded “So I had heard and he will be a loss to all those who are equally dedicated, I’m sure.” he looked at the death certificate again before slipping it into the other papers.

 

Adam strolled over to the window and stared down at the sprawling mass beyond, his eyes roved around the city and for a brief moment he thought of the Pantanol, the vines and creepers, the claustrophobic way everything grew there to close and trap you within it.  He became aware that Evarts was standing beside  “In your report you say Mr Jefferson denied the charge of murdering his brother.”

 

“He did.  Strenuously.”

 

“Did you believe him?”

 

“Yes, I did.” Adam raised his eyebrows and nodded “Yes, definitely.”

 

“You weren’t influenced by your liking for him and his work?”

 

“I don’t allow myself to get influenced, as you call it, sir.  I may like the man but I don’t tolerate anyone lying to me.  Had Professor Jefferson lied to me I would have known.”

 

“Would you really?  Would you really have known, Commodore?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How?”  Evarts stroked his chin.  He had an expressive face, heavily lined already with an overlarge nose and intelligent eyes.  He stared into the Commodore’s face and raised his eyebrows.

 

“An honest man doesn’t lie well,” Adam shrugged “In my opinion the Professor was a very honest man.”

 

“How did you find Captain Morton?  Was he equal to the task?”

 

“What task was that, Mr Evarts?”

 

Evarts smiled slowly although his eyes darkened slightly “To arrest the man on a charge of  murder of course.”

 

“Oh, was that it?  I thought it was to keep his eye on me.” Adam shrugged again and returned to look at the view from the window, “There we were told to find this man, to say nothing, not even discuss it with one another just in case ‘someone’ heard, to embellish a story about diamond mines and lost cities …”  he smiled slightly “I think it took a while for either of us to trust the other.  Then of course there was talk of an English contact - “ he pursed his lips “It took a while to sort out the truth from the lies, to be honest.  To arrest an honest man was the easy part, to bring him back, dead or alive, even easier.”

 

“You Don’t have a high opinion of politicians, do you, Commodore?”

 

“None whatsoever, sir.”

 

“Well, at least we understand one another.”  Evarts laughed and almost raised his hand to place on Adam’s arm, “You went to the Boston Latin School, didn’t you?”

 

Adam squared his shoulders and said “I did.”  he paused “I remember seeing your name as a previous student there.”*

 

“Yes.  I was impressed that you had been there though, a youth from the wilderness…”

 

Adam pouted and again raised his eyebrows “I believe you went onto Yale and Harvard Law School where you became a member of the Linonian *Society and …” he turned to look at the other man thoughtfully “and the secret society Skull and Bones.”*

 

Evarts did laugh now, a hearty laugh and he actually slapped Adam on the shoulder “Yes, I did.  How thorough of you to - er - find that out.”

 

Adam shrugged “Only something any ‘old boy’ from the Boston Latin School would know about a prestigious former student.”

 

“I like you, Commodore.” Evarts said expansively, “I didn’t think I would seeing how well favoured you were with Grant, I had assumed that like so many of his associates you would be -” he paused and became solemn “Well, let’s not go into that, I can see for myself that I am wrong, and mistaken.”

 

He turned away from the window now and pulled out a chair upon which he sat, he then indicated the chair that Adam had already vacated “Sit down, tell me in your own words what took place in Brazil.”

 

Adam took his seat and looked thoughtfully at the other man while he mentally went through the facts that he knew about him … he had been admitted to the bar in New York, in 1841, married the daughter of a prominent businessman and banker, and had 12 children between 1845 and 1862*.  He had recently made a speech about secret societies at colleges as breeding grounds for snobbishness which he had found distasteful in later life.*

 

So Adam briefly related the events of his trip to Brazil, finding Scolley and Jefferson, the subsequent denial of the murder charge and the willingness of Jefferson to return to America to face his accusers and prove his innocence.  Adam shrugged slightly in conclusion “I’m not sure how he was going to prove his innocence except by the evidence provided by Mrs Jefferson.”

 

“Ah yes, Mrs Jefferson.” Evarts rubbed his chin and looked again at Adam “And what did the Professor think of Mrs Jefferson.”

 

Adam pouted slightly before saying “He loved her. He left America never thinking for a moment that she would be charged with murder, or that there would be any doubt about Sackville Jefferson’s death as being anything than an accident caused by their fight.”

 

“And what was the fight about, did he say?”  Evarts asked casually, perhaps a little too casually as his eyes wandered from Adams face to observe the picture on the far wall.

 

“Senator Jefferson had accused his brother of having an affair with his wife, which Howard denied strongly.  He admitted loving her but also that Mrs Jefferson had never once given him any reason to think she loved him.”

 

“Is that all?” Evarts asked blandly as he looked at Adam once again.

 

“What do you mean ‘Is that all?’”

 

“It seems - well - insufficient.”

 

Adam nearly laughed, his eyes widened and he shook his head as though amazed “Insufficient?  From what I have heard about Senator Jefferson he was a hot headed man, and as such the thought of another man having an affair with his wife would lead most definitely to a fight, especially when his brother was wanting money for yet another ex-pedition.”

 

“I agree  Sackville did have a temper on him.” Evarts nodded in agreement, “But to kill your brother because of such an accusation - which he knew was false -”

 

“Howard Jefferson did not kill his brother, Mr Evarts.”  Adam frowned, the dark brows lowering over his near black eyes “Where I come from men have been killed for less, fought over less.  If I thought any of my brothers were  having an affair with my wife I would beat the tar out of them.”

 

“And would you kill them?”

 

“No more than they would think of killing me… no, of course not.” Adam shook his head, and then rose to his feet “I’m sorry that Professor Jefferson isn’t here to defend himself as he would have wished, and I’m sorry that I make a poor ambassador pleading on his behalf.   He denied the murder of his brother on his death bed …”

 

“And did he say anything else ..on his death bed?”

 

“Only that he loved Mrs Jefferson.”  Adam replied quietly and reached for his hat, “There’s nothing more I can tell you, sir.  Everything is in my report, I believe you will find all the papers correct but should you wish to see me, then I’ll be on board my ship.”

 

Evarts stood up, regarded Adam steadily “Did he ever mention anything about Sackville that would lead you to think the man - well - could be involved in nefarious actions?”

 

“He never mentioned anything - he did say that his brother was an unpleasant man, arrogant, and he believed that Senator Jefferson didn’t - couldn’t - love his wife.”

 

“So, Howard Jefferson hated his brother?”

 

“Please don‘t twist my words, Mr Evarts.   He saw his brother for what he was, that’s all.”

 

“And he didn’t mention - any club at all?”

 

Adam looked puzzled “A club?  What kind of club?”

 

“Commodore, you have just reminded me that I was in a secret society while at college …   a society of which I am not ashamed and have nothing to be ashamed about except perhaps for its elitism … did Professor Jefferson ever mention that his brother was associated with a secret society like Skull & Bone?”

 

Adam looked thoughtful, this was the crux of the matter now, this was leading to the questions he and Jotham had been prepared to lie about were they to be raised, he shook his head “If Senator Jefferson was associated with a secret society like skull & Bone then there would be no reason for either Howard or the Senator to be ashamed of being a member, would there, sir?”

 

Evarts smiled slowly, his eyes glinted and he nodded “Very well, Commodore.  Thank you.”

 

He placed a hand on Adams shoulder as he walked him to the door “If anything else is required of you, Commodore… please remain on board ship for now, would you?”  he paused “You are still on active duty, remember that…”

 

Adam nodded, said nothing but with a grim look on his face left the room and made his way, alone, down the long corridor.  As he walked he played over and over what had  been said, and was about to wonder where Jotham was when Captain Williams stepped forward and saluted “A carriage is ready to take you back to your ship, Commodore.”

 

“What about Captain Morton?”

 

“Captain Morton isn’t part of your ships crew, Commodore.” Williams replied smartly, “I’m sure you will see him again soon.”

 

He gave the Commodore a salute and opened the door of the vehicle in which Adam stepped.  He leaned against the seat, folded his arms across his chest and scowled darkly as he wondered just where Jotham was, and how he was handling his ‘interrogation’.  He wondered if it would  be as subtly conducted as his own had been and began to consider what more was going to occur before the day ended.

 

Chapter 71

 

Adam had thought to delay the return to the ship in order to send a cable to Olivia and his father, to  let them know he was back on American soil and would be returning home soon but instinct, that strange twisting of the gut that chimed so perfectly with that something that clicks in the brain, discouraged him from following what was his chief desire.  He sat in the carriage and prepared himself to wait.

 

Patience was never a virtue that he had cultivated although time and again life had attempted to teach him, even in the cruellest of manner.  Back in his cabin he tried to read a book, then went on the bridge to oversee his bo’sun paying off the men, most of whom were hoping to serve on the Shenandoah again along with him.  Some caught his eye on them and nodded, smiled their thanks, and went on their way.

 

The cook prepared a light meal and as the evening closed in he began to think that there would be no further summons, but could only therefore worry about Jothams whereabouts.  He put a light to the lamps in the cabin, poured himself a glass of wine and sat at his desk to write a letter to Olivia. 

 

The glass was empty when there came a knock on the door and without looking up he continued to write saying “Come in” in a perfunctory manner.  “Commodore?”

 

Now he did look up, nodded to Captain Williams “Good evening, Captain.  What can I do for you at this time?”

 

“Your presence is required, sir.  If you would care to come along with me?”

 

Adam pursed his lips and hesitated, then looked warily at Henry Williams who was standing very erect and straight backed.   With a sigh and nod of the head he left his letter unfinished, covering it with the log book to protect it from prying eyes, and pulled his jacket from the back of the chair “You’re rather late, Captain.”

 

Williams merely stiffened his back a little more “My apologies, Commodore.”

 

Shrugging his jacket on and carefully buttoning it as they left the cabin Adam wondered what it was that Evarts had to say to him now.  Had Jotham said anything at an unwise or unguarded moment?  He led the way down the corridor to the deck, saw Beamish “Mr Beamish, I have to leave the ship again, take command will you?”

 

“Yes, of course, sir.” Beamish nodded, saluted and watched as the two men made their way down the gangplank… the notes of the whistle indicating the senior officers departure fading into the evening air.

 

 

 

He was led to a small ante-chamber and asked to remain there for a short while, Williams saluted his superior officer and then left him alone, closing the door quietly behind him.

It was a pleasant room, well lit and comfortably furnished and for a while Adam made use of the time by walking around it and studying the pictures on the wall, and then the titles of the books on the shelves.  He estimated having been there for at least 15 minutes when the door opened again and he turned expecting to see Williams again but found himself confronted by a woman instead.

 

They both looked at one another as though slightly surprised at the presence of the other, then he smiled “Adam Cartwright, M’am,”

 

She nodded “Matilda Jefferson, Commodore.” she stretched out her hand which he took in his and shook lightly, she smiled and the blue eyes shone a little from the moisture in them, “I believe you are the officer who brought Howard  back from Brazil, aren’t you?“

 

“Yes, Mrs Jefferson, I am.  My condolences -  he was a very sick man.”

 

She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes, then shook her head “I wish I hadn’t sent that letter to him now, he may have stayed there if I hadn’t.”

 

“I doubt if you have any reason to blame yourself, Mrs Jefferson.  Howard would have come had you written to him or not.  He was an honourable man and would have wanted to defend his name, as well as to protect yourself.”

 

She glanced over at him then and looked a trifle embarrassed “I - I didn’t encourage Howard to love me, I gave him no inducement at all.”

 

“I know, he told me that you loved your husband and was never unfaithful in any way.  He respected you for that, even though he had loved you since before your marriage to the Senator.”

 

“Yes, I know.  He came to me a few days before the wedding to ask me to think about what I was doing, to cancel the wedding and marry him instead but I didn’t love him, not after having met Sackville.”

 

Adam nodded and regarded her steadily for a moment;  she was an attractive woman and took care of her looks, by her poise and style of dress she could pass for a woman several years younger than she was, and Adam suspected that she was warm hearted with a good sense of humour despite her rather cool demeanour now.  He turned slightly away from her and looked around the room, so that to regain his attention she explained the reason why she was there  “They told me about Howard.  I had to identify the body, I being his closest relative.” she paused and looked at him, “They didn’t seem to believe me at first, asked me if I was sure it was him …” she raised her chin slightly “I wasn’t prepared - I wasn’t aware that he could look like that -”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Adam went to her side and gently led her to a settee where she sat down and wept a little into her handkerchief, “My doctor did everything he possibly could to preserve the body but -” he winced slightly, it couldn’t have been a pleasant sight for a lady of her class to identify the body of a man dead some time,, in fact he knew it wouldn’t have been, “I’m sure they could have found someone else, a man who -”

 

“Commodore,” she laughed lightly through her tears and wiped her eyes again, “You are kind, and thoughtful, but honestly, I’m not one of those silly women who faint at the sight of blood, I’m really quite - usually - I’m quite resilient and can handle most things.  They did warn me of what to expect but the reality isn’t always the same, is it?”

 

“Sadly not,” he sat down opposite her and once again regarded her steadily, watching as she blew her nose, dabbed her eyes and stared down at the floor, “You recognised him well enough though?”

 

“Of course, it wasn’t so difficult once I’d got over the initial shock.”

 

Adam nodded as he thought of what she had gone through, the experience was one of the most unpleasant he could imagine, the smell alone could have been repellent although perhaps the worst of that had already faded.

 

“Howard was under the impression that you were being charged or accused of Sackville’s murder, he insisted on coming here to clear both his and your name from any such accusation. He was arrested on suspicion of your husbands murder, you know?”

 

“Did he tell you much about Sackville?  About what he was like?”

 

“He told me enough for me to know that he had no respect for him -”

 

She laughed a little at that and then wept a little more, dabbed at her eyes, “Oh, dear, he had no respect for him, what a sweet way you have of expressing how he felt for his brother.  Howard hated Sackville, positively hated him.  Sackville likewise hated Howard.  Sometimes when they were together it was like being in the middle of a tug of war.  But Sackville was always generous to Howard, would pay for his expeditions mostly.  Probably just to get rid of him I suppose.” she sighed heavily at that and stared at the picture opposite her.

 

“Do you think Howard may have tried to kill Sackville?”

 

“They’ve asked me that question so often, Commodore.  You have no idea how many times I have gone over that scene in my mind, over and over it.  No, Howard didn’t kill my husband, but my husband had the knife in his hand to kill Howard.”

 

“So it could have happened as Howard said, in the fight, rolling over and over the floor, against the furniture …the knife intended for Howard ended  up in Sackville instead?”

 

She didn’t answer that but remained very quiet, staring now into nothing, her face pale and the tears still damp upon her cheeks.  “Did you know that my husband belonged to some sort of club?  A secret club?”

 

Adam paused in his thoughts and looked at her with his face blank while his mind whirled round and round “Mr Evarts mentioned that earlier …” he said quietly, “Is it important?  I mean, did it matter so much? Many men - and women - have particular clubs or societies they enjoy attending.”

 

“Didn’t Howard mention it to you at all?” she asked with an intensity in her words that caused Adam to pause once again before he made a careful response.

 

“Why should he?  All he was concerned about was the fact that he was being accused of murder, and you also, by implication.” he leaned forwards and looked into her face, but she sighed and brought the handkerchief to her eyes again.

 

“I just wondered if he had - if you knew -  Howard had found out, you see, and that was why they argued that night.”  she frowned, “Howard was so angry about it, very angry.”

 

“You didn’t know about this - er - club?“ and when she shook her head he added “Have you told Mr Evarts or any one involved in this crime about this club?”

 

“No, not really. I had forgotten all about it until it was mentioned here today.”

 

“Why did it take so long for anyone to think that Sackville had been murdered?  Surely if there had been any suspicion at the time of his death …?”

 

“Oh there was none, none at all.” she replied simply, “It all looked so obviously an accident, and then suddenly, out of the blue, I was being accused of - of helping Howard to murder my husband.”

 

Adam leaned back against the chair and regarded her thoughtfully, he glanced around the room and stroked his upper lip with his forefinger, twisted the ring on his little finger and then looked at her again.  She had been observing him from under  her eyelashes but now turned away and bowed her head, “I suppose now that he’s been returned, and he’s dead, it will be an end to all these accusations.  Do you think so, Commodore Cartwright?”

 

“I don’t know, Mrs Jefferson.  It depends on how much the authorities feel you were involved and why…”

 

She was quiet for a moment and then leaned forward, lowered her voice a little “That other officer, the one who arrested Howard, I think he told them about this secret society Sackville belonged to..”

 

He moved away slightly and shrugged, “If he did then he knew more than I about the matter, Howard must have confided in him about it at some time when they were together. They played chess some evenings, before Howard became too ill.”

 

She rose to her feet now, her shoulders drooped slightly “You really have no idea about what Sackville was involved in, do you?”

 

“If this society had been involved in anything treasonable, or any such thing, I am sure that it would have been mentioned in my despatches when I was sent to Brazil.  Perhaps whoever killed your husband did this country a favour. I can’t think of anything else that would give Mr Evarts so much cause for concern.” and he shrugged as though to dismiss the whole subject.

 

She sighed then, sadly, and placed a hand on his arm “Commodore, I truly wish I had your naiveté.” and without another word she turned to leave the room.

 

“What reason would you have for killing your husband. Mrs Jefferson?”

 

She stopped, her hand on the door, and half turned “Kill him?  Sackville?  But I loved him?”

 

“But he didn’t love you, did he?”  Adam walked towards her now looking thoughtful, “Howard told me about the fight, he saw Sackville with the knife in his hand, he remembered thinking he had to get hold of it before someone was killed and then he couldn’t remember anything until he was pushing himself away from the body, and you were there in the room, standing by the door.  He thought you were just entering the room and noticed what had happened, but really, is it not possible that you were actually trying to leave the room before he came round from where you had struck him.”

 

She just stared at him for a moment then shook her head “As I said, Commodore, you really are very naïve.  You  can’t really believe that?  Is that what Howard told you, that he had been struck by someone …?”

 

Adam looked at her now, recognised the small gleam of triumph in her eyes, quickly hidden by her handkerchief as she dabbed away non existent tears  “I think, Commodore, you are really very cruel.  I may not have loved Howard, but I did care about him, and I loved my husband…”

 

Adam stepped away from her and gave a slight roll of the shoulders “Very well, as you say .. You’re innocent and so was Howard … so who do you think had any reason to  kill your husband?”

 

“I don’t know, that’s what they’re trying to find out.” and with a slight toss of the head Matilda Jefferson left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

 

Adam resumed his seat and stared at a vase of flowers on the far corner of the room.  He stared until it blurred in his vision, he didn’t even move when the door opened and Williams said “Commodore, the President will see you now, sir.”  

 

Chapter 72

 

Rutherford Hayes, 19^th President of the United States watched from behind the big desk as Commodore Adam Cartwright stepped into the room.  William Evarts stood to the right of the desk with his hand resting upon a thick file while his face was as inscrutable as that mostly seen on carved wooden Indians outside tobacconists shops.

 

Rutherford Hayes looked like a genial grandfather, his bushy beard and mild eyes were benign and kindly.   Adam had known from the tittle-tattle that goes around the best of societies, including on board a ship and on the Ponderosa, that Hayes had been an officer in the Union army, wounded five times and had been in the legal profession.  His election to the Presidency was one of the most muddled and confused in the history of elections and Adam did wonder if getting his position thanks to a muddle and a compromise would affect the way his administration would be conducted, after all, Hayes now had to prove to the American people that he had been the right man to elect as their President after all.

 

Hayes stood up and smiled, extended his hand “Good to meet you at last, Commodore, my apologies for holding this meeting at such  a late hour.”

 

Adam merely nodded, shook the President’s hand and stood in front of the desk much as he would have done when at college and hauled before the headmaster.  He smiled to himself having realised that was twice in the one day he had been given that impression.

 

A light knock on the door and a rather officious clerk scurried into the room, handed a document to the President and quickly left although the swift glance he gave at Adam gave the Commodore the impression that the document concerned himself.  He watched as it was passed to Evarts for his perusal before it was placed on top of the file. 

 

For a moment Adam raised his eyes to observe the picture of Venice by Canaletto before looking down at the President who was observing him from the comfort of his chair.  He was as unlike Grant as a man could be and seeing that he now had Adam’s attention again, tapped the file “All this is about you, Commodore.”

 

Adam wasn’t sure what to say to that but inclined his head and clasped his hands behind his back, Evarts indicated a chair and suggested that he ’took a seat’ which Adam did, while Evarts found a chair and also sat down.

 

“It’s an impressive load of information there,” said the President, “I’ve enjoyed reading through it and find that I’m inclined to agree with the previous incumbent of these offices. You are an interesting man, Commodore.  I believe that  President Grant often referred to you as his maverick, and his friend - which makes one wary, you understand, when considering you as one of Grant’s friends.”

 

Adam raised his eyebrows and gave a slight shrug of the shoulders “I’m merely an officer in what is the President’s navy, I obey my orders, nothing else.”

 

“I’d disagree with you, Commodore.  You go beyond obeying orders. I think President Grant thought of you as a friend  because he knew you could be trusted, because of your loyalty and honesty, qualities seldom found among ’his friends.’”

 

Adam merely narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at Evarts before returning to observe Hayes who was stroking his moustache.  Before anyone could speak the door opened again and a man entered with a tray of refreshments which he set down upon the desk.  Hayes smiled “Coffee, Commodore?  Or tea?”

 

“Coffee, thank you.”

 

Hayes nodded and the man poured out the dark brew into three cups, Hayes leaned back and smiled “I’m a Methodist by religion and abhor alcohol, so I do hope that you were not expecting any, Commodore.”*

 

Adam merely smiled and accepted the cup, sniffed it and nodded “Columbian?”

 

The servant nodded and smiled before leaving the room.   Adam sipped it and enjoyed the best coffee he had tasted in a long time, Hayes had set his cup and saucer beside his elbow and was re-reading the document that his clerk had brought into the room earlier.

 

“You have met Mrs Matilda Jefferson?”  he said quietly

 

“For the first time a few moments ago.”

 

“How did you find her?”

 

“Distressed.  She had the misfortune to have to identify her brother in laws body. It couldn’t have been pleasant for her.”

 

Hayes smiled but it was Evarts who said in his dry manner “We had to ensure that it was Howard Jefferson who was returned to us.”

 

“My orders were to return him dead or alive, I’d have preferred him to have returned alive of course, but sadly he was too ill to survive the journey.” Adam replied equally dryly.

 

“You felt he was an honest man,, Commodore?” Hayes raised his eyes to look at his officer and Adam realised that although he looked like a pleasant grandfather he had an element of steel in him the eyes were bright with intelligence and shrewd.

 

“He was an honest man, Mr President.” Adam replied, “I don’t think he would lie under any circumstances.  He wanted to return in order to defend his name and clear Mrs Jefferson of any implication in this crime.  He had the opportunity to escape from us several times over but never attempted it once.”

 

“Drink your coffee, Commodore, and read these papers, will you?” Hayes handed a small batch of newspaper cuttings to Evarts who gave them to Adam. 

 

For a while there was silence, Evarts was a noisy slurper of coffee but apart from that and the clink of cup upon saucer the ticking of a clock there was no sound.  Adam read each account of the crime as reported in various newspapers, once or twice he would return to an account and re-read it through.  After he had finished he sat for a while in deep thought before he ran his hand over the back of his head as though smoothing the curls that touched upon his collar.

 

“Another cup of coffee, Adam?”  Hayes murmured but Adam shook his  head although he did stand up to place the cup and saucer on the tray and the newspaper cuttings upon the desk.  His eyes glanced over to the document by Hayes’ hand and he sighed as though in disappointment at seeing it was a transcript of the conversation he had just had with Mrs Jefferson.  He looked up and at Hayes before returning to his chair.

 

“Do you still think Howard Jefferson innocent?” Hayes asked quietly

 

“More so than ever.”

 

“Your conversation with Mrs Jefferson … didn’t that make you feel any differently about the case?”

 

Adam bit down on his bottom lip and chewed upon it a moment while with downcast head he surveyed the carpet at his feet, “I know that Sackville Jefferson was a Senator, and that Howard referred to him at one time as pure evil, but I am -” he paused and frowned, looked up and observed both men “I’m confused as to why his death is being looked into so closely by yourselves and was not just left to the Police Department.  Even sending Captain Morton and myself to Brazil to apprehend him, I could understand would seemingly fall into the province of the law, but I don’t see why it would take up so much time and attention for it to become a Classified Government matter.”

 

Hayes smiled and again stroked his moustache “I was told you speak your mind, and I like that, I can see why Grant thought you honest.”

 

“I speak as I find, Mr President.”

 

“Then may I ask you to indulge us on this matter.  Sackville Jefferson was a Senator, a very brilliant man, a clever strategist, a prime mover in some of the previous Administrations decisions at home as well as abroad.    Howard Jefferson was right in saying that he was evil - if evil can exist in a man - sadly Sackville Jefferson was the embodiment of it.”

 

Adam looked at Evarts who merely inclined his head in agreement with the President. He now leaned towards Adam “You have read the accounts in the newspapers, and you have met Mrs Jefferson … you still believe Howard Jefferson innocent … so what do you think happened?”

 

Adam shook his head and gave a cynical twist of the lips “Sackville was killed nearly 2 years ago, and suddenly it becomes a crime and I’m supposed to know what happened?”

 

“Alright, you may not know exactly what happened, but you have read these accounts, you have spoken to Mrs Jefferson, you have Howard Jeffersons last words on the matter. You must have formed some opinion?” Evarts demanded.

 

Hayes cleared his throat and his bushy eyebrows seemed to meet together over his eyes as he stared at the officer, “Commodore, you’re an intelligent man and has served this Government well in the past and as you know when a matter enters the  Classified category there’s good reason for that, it also means that there are some things that you are not meant to know, nor for that matter, anyone else.  It means we need your co-operation to handle a situation that will have reverberations beyond the death of Sackville Jefferson.  You will have to trust us, Commodore, despite your opinion of politicians …” beneath his beard his lips twisted into a parody of a smile.

 

Evarts nodded “You have to remember you have spent more time with Howard Jefferson since his arrest than anyone else - apart from Captain Morton of course - and we really feel that it is now necessary that anything he may have told you, in confidence, should now be disclosed so that this -” he cleared his throat, but his eyes held, fixed, upon Adams, “this can be dealt with, internally, and discreetly.” 

 

Adam raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips in his familiar manner “I’d need to read the statements that were given to the police at the time of death, and any subsequent statements from Mrs Jefferson and members of their staff who were at the house at the time.” he looked at Evarts “And if there were any others involved and questioned, then their statements as well.”

 

“What makes you think anyone else was involved?” Hayes asked quietly.

 

“Someone must have said something to have brought the matter to your attention, Sir. After all, the Law had obviously not pursued it very carefully when the murder took place.”

 

“Very well,” Evarts replied and after a quick glance at the President for his approval left the room.

 

Hayes leaned towards Adam, his hands clasped upon the surface of the desk and his kindly face looking with a smile at the other man “Commodore Cartwright, you know that we have a transcript of the conversation you have just had with Mrs Jefferson, you asked her if she had any reason to murder her husband … why did you do that?”

 

“Because I believe she is guilty, but instinct and conjecture don’t and aren’t sufficient proof to arrest any one on the charge of murder.”

 

“President Grant had a very high opinion of your instincts, Commodore.  I’m beginning to understand why.” for a moment there was silence between the two men, “This Administration has a lot of work to do in order to stabilise the economy, to restore the confidence of the people in Government.”  he picked up a pen and  began to roll it between his fingers,  You have always had a very keen interest in Indian affairs, haven’t you?”

 

Adam frowned “That’s going rather off the subject, sir.”

 

“I know, I’m taking advantage of Evarts’ absence.”  Hayes smiled slowly, “It’s all on record, Adam,” he tapped the file, “All your opinions, your thoughts on what Grant should do to give the Indians a better quality of life.”

 

“True enough, I don’t deny what my opinions were then, which are much the same now.”

 

“I daresay.  I feel very much the same, Adam.  Have done for many years.  I intend to redress the matter as much as possible while I am in office.  I don’t know how much you know about my life, but as a Judge I saved many a slaves life when they were able to reach our side of the river in their flight to freedom*.  I hope to give every American whatever colour, race or creed, an equal standard of life .. Or at least an equal opportunity to gain it.”

 

Adam nodded, he wondered if that had been part of Hayes’ manifesto when he was elected.  He was about to speak when the door opened and Evarts entered the room again with a sheaf of papers in his hand which he passed over to Adam. “You won’t mind remaining here, do you, Commodore?  We appreciate the hour is late but we would like this matter dealt with sooner rather than later.”

 

Adam nodded and stood up to carry the papers over to a small bureau nearer the window, from somewhere a man appeared to remove the refreshments but before he did so he brought a lamp to the desk and set it down in order for Adam to read through the statements. 

 

The clock in the room chimed eleven strokes, the three men remained undisturbed as the hand of the clock ticked away another hour.  The servant returned with another tray, this time with sandwiches, tea and coffee, some fruit.  Evarts and the President had a murmured conversation by the desk while Adam continued to read through the statements, returning to some, discarding others.  Finally as the clock struck the half hour past mid night he stood up and brought the papers to the President’s desk where he set them down with saying that he could now put forward a theory that would prove Howard Jefferson innocent.

 

“And Mrs Jefferson?”

 

“Guilty.”

 

Chapter 73

 

A look of some satisfaction passed between the two statesmen which made Adam feel a twinge of sympathy for Matilda Jefferson, but then he pushed that aside, just as he chose to shut his mind to the fact that they had not trusted him to bring back Howard Jefferson alive or dead, had eavesdropped on his conversation with the woman earlier.  His long fingers spread out the statements across the desk as he told himself that whatever they had done would stand him in good stead as they would not be able to turn his words or actions against him in the future.

 

“The original statements are self explanatory and show how the law enforcement officers were happy to accept that the death of the senator was due to a fight between the brothers.  They accepted that he had been stabbed by the knife that was still in his hand.  Howards statement was as would be expected from a man whose brother had just died,  and who would feel guilty for being the cause of it - due to the argument and fight you understand?”

 

Water was poured from a carafe into three glasses, the President sat down and prepared himself to listen patiently to what was being said, Evarts took his glass of water and sat down in the chair that he had brought closer to the desk.  Adam remained standing his fingers upon the written statements “Matilda’s statement was typical of a woman who had lost a husband she adored, she was hysterical, weeping, fainting.  She elicited a lot of sympathy from all around her.  The staff claimed they heard nothing until her screams were  heard whereupon they came running to see what was wrong and Howard sent the butler, Mr Hughes, to send for a doctor and police.  One maid, Evelyn Poole, says she heard a lot of banging and crashing of furniture and then suddenly her mistress’ screams.”

 

He drank some water and pushed the statements to one side. “By the time a doctor attended the scene Sackville Jefferson was dead, one stab to the heart, very bloody.  He had to attend to Mrs Jefferson who had fainted, needed sedation and had to be taken to her bed.   The Officers who had come stated that Howard Jefferson was distraught, there was a lot of blood on his clothing.” he paused for a moment, “The maid also mentioned that while undressing Mrs Jefferson and preparing her for her bed, she noticed blood on her mistress’ dress.” his hand now rested upon those statements made more recently “The matter was left as a domestic argument that resulted in an accidental death. Mrs Jefferson apparently disclosed that her husband had confronted his brother with a false accusation on ’a private matter.’   Howard told the officers that they had fought over a ’private matter’ but no mention of any false accusation.”

 

Evarts and the President looked at one another, nodded, Evarts raised his eyebows and Hayes stroked his beard “All that is obvious, it’s there for us to read, and we have noted everything that you have said - so far.”

 

“The facts are always there to be read, sir, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they are obvious until the pieces are put together to fit a pattern.  When the pattern becomes clear then one can say, with all honesty, that the facts were obvious.”  he smiled, that slow smile that his brothers knew meant their brother could now see the ‘pattern’ quite clearly.

 

“As I have said before, Howard was amazed when we told him it was now a murder case. He wanted to know, as did we, why the case had been re-opened now. As we know this kind of thing happens.  A death occurs, no one thinks anything about it and the years later someone remembers something, or says something and then that death no longer appears as innocent as it had before.”   he picked up some of the papers from the desk now and scanned them with his brown eyes before setting them back on the table.  “What Howard did not know was that while he was busy digging up his artefacts in Brazil,  a Miss Emily Demarny who had been engaged to a Mr Claude Callaghan came forward with a statement that her fiance had told her that Senator Jefferson had been murdered, Mr Callaghan upon questioning denied saying such things. “

 

Adam drank some more water, his looked thoughtfully at Evarts as though he wasn’t sure he liked what he was looking at and then he returned to the statements “Claude’s disappearance caused Miss Demarny to resume her charges … in her last statement she accuses Mrs Jefferson of  having an affair with Claude, and when Sackville Jefferson discovered it, she killed him, using Howard to ‘do the deed’.”

 

“That,” Evarts said “was what brought attention back to the case, of course. Miss DeMarny was ademant that Claude was having an affair with Mrs Jefferson and that when she had found out she confronted him, and he told her what had happened - about the murder.”

 

Adam shook his head “Returning to the time prior to the murder, and before Howard left for Brazil … Matilda Jefferson was obsessively in love with her husband.  He had no feelings for her, he never demonstrated them to her but the more unattainable he appeared to her, the more she loved him. She would never risk losing what she had by a casual affair.  But Howard knew his brother well, as, it seems, gentlemen, so do  you. He was convinced that his brother was having an affair with Miss DeMarny, as she says in her statement, Howard called on her to ask for confirmation, he wanted to confront Matilda with the truth, and so Miss DeMarny told him - the truth.”

 

“Which gives him a motive for the murder, implicating Matilda …” Evarts murmured.

 

Adam bowed his head, his brow creased as he thought over the reasonings and conclusions he had reached then he shook his head.  “I believe that when Howard  told her that her husband was having an affair, Matilda was more or less relieved to know that there was a reason for her husband’s coldness to her.  Another woman was no threat to her, after all, she was his wife.  As a Senator’s wife she had position, status, among the best circles, the circles in which he himself was so closely involved.”

 

“Commodore, you may be touching upon certain aspects of this case that, should they be looked into by the law, could affect several prominent men in Government and social circles which will also affect national policy.  We need to protect certain people from the mud that could be flung about as a result of this case becoming public knowledge.”

 

Adam said nothing but looked down at the papers on the desk “Well, what you do is none of my business, sir.  I can only speak as you have asked me to,  and as I have said before I already thought Mrs Jefferson guilty before I saw these statements. Matilda loved her husband, when Howard told her about this affair she thought Sackville was involved with Miss Demarny, so she just laughed Howard off and told him to go about his business and leave the matter alone.”

 

The clock struck the hour, the three men reached for the glasses of water “From what Miss DeMarny says it was that which prompted Howard’s visit to Miss Demarny, you see, Howard already knew it was highly unlikely that his brother would be having an affair with any woman, he then saw Claude and was told the truth, that Claude and Sackville were lovers. Howard then told Matilda - this is now conjecture on my part - she had not any idea that her husband, a man with whom she was so obsessively in love with would have such perverted inclinations. It was, to her, a terrible rejection, and the more people that knew about it the more she could see her life in ruins.  Who would believe that a woman would not know that her husband was … as  you yourselves have said …evil.

 

“Howard confronted Sackville about it, he always knew that Sackville was more interested in men than he ever would be in women, which is why he asked Matilda to marry him before she went through with her marriage to his brother.  Now he wanted Sackville to tell Matilda to her face and they fought.”

 

“You don’t sound surprised at these disclosures, Commodore?” Evarts said in his dry voice while his eyes remained upon the statements under Adam’s hand.

 

“I’ve not lived my life with my eyes shut, Mr Evarts.  Whatever my own opinions of such matters these things happen … as a basis for this murder it provides the motive for Matilda to kill her husband.”  he  shrugged slightly, and pursed his lips before going on “These affairs were nothing new, I should think during his career Sackville indulged his appetites quite freely”

 

Neither of the other men spoke until Evarts gave a dry little cough “Very well, those are the facts, but what made you suspect Matilda Jefferson, even before you read those statements?  Just instinct?“ Evarts turned aside and walked towards the window with his hands behind his back

 

“Mrs Jefferson herself … most women could never have faced identifying a corpse that had been in a coffin as long as Howard had been, especially considering the climate in which we had travelled.  She was acting the part of a distressed woman, but she wasn’t shocked, not reacting the way one would have expected.  She was either a really hard woman or she hated Howard so much that it gave her some pleasure to see him dead -after all, he had been the instrument that brought her castle in the air tumbling down.”

 

“Anything else?” President Hayes asked, “We can’t arrest her just because of how you feel about her.”

 

“The maid said that she had heard banging and the crashing of furniture and after a while her mistress was screaming.  What is curious is why that lapse in time… that comment ‘after a while she heard her mistress screaming.’   If Matilda had stepped into the room, as Howard was led to assume, upon seeing her husband dead she would have screamed right away, there would have been no pause, and no blood on her clothing”

 

“Also, the dead man had the knife still in his hand, but the doctors statement says the blood was right up to the hilt, it had been plunged into his heart with such force that it would have taken some strength to remove it from the body.  Do you know how much strength it takes to drive a knife into a mans heart?  With such force as to drive the knife up to the hilt?”  he nodded as though more to himself at the thoughts that were going through his mind, “ I have seen men killed in knife fights, even killed by their own hand, and I have never known any of them able to pull the knife out afterwards, usually their fingers tighten around the hilt during the final death throes.  Sackville Jefferson was killed by one blow right in the heart … that doctor was either a fool,, a novice or -”

 

“Or ?” Evarts suggested

 

“Or there was a cover up for some reason at that time.”  Adam pursed his lips and rounded his eyes as he looked down at the papers “Perhaps that is for you to look into, internally, of course.”

 

Hayes wiped across his mouth with his hand and nodded “It will be looked into, Adam, I assure you.”

 

“So what happened, if you put all the pieces together?” Evarts now asked turning towards Adam to give him greater attention.

 

“Howard insisted that Matilda had just stepped into the room but he also said at one time to me that they were rolling on the floor, he and Sackville, bumping into the furniture - which is what the maid and obviously Matilda heard - he saw that Sackville had grabbed a knife, he fought, grabbed at Sackvilles arm, and couldn’t remember what happened until he opened his eyes, his brother was dead, blood everywhere and Matilda just stepping into the room, seeing what happened she screamed … the maid and the other servants came running.”  he gave a slight sigh, a roll of the shoulders, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as he concentrated on what to say next.

 

 “I think what actually happened was that Matilda heard the sound of the fight, she was, after all,  expecting some reaction to the discussion between the two men.  It was late, the staff had already retired to bed but she was still in her day clothes. She entered the room, saw the knife in Sackvilles hand, hit Howard hard enough to knock him cold, her husband thinks she has come to stop the fight, relaxes his hold on the knife, which she takes from him.  She knows she only has this one chance, she had to make that one blow matter, make sure that she hits on the right place.  He’s thinking he’s safe, the knife comes down, she kills him, puts the knife back into his hand, and runs to the door, there’s blood on her dress, unavoidable but then Howard comes round just as she is leaving the room upon which she starts screaming.”

 

Evarts nodded “So the staff come running from their rooms, and no one thinks of the blood on her dress and she gives a good reason for the fight … her husband accusing Howard of having an affair with her, Howard defending her honour.”

 

Adam nodded “Howard loved her so much, he thought the bump on his head was a result from knocking into the furniture …” he shrugged slightly, “Miss DeMarny, not knowing the truth as to Claude and Sackville’s relationship was happy to let things blow over, after all, she still had him…I should imagine that it was when she discovered or was told about Claude’s personal preferences that he was forced to disclose what little he knew, perhaps she made up the rest but whatever she knew, it opened up the case again for a fresh look and …Claude disappeared.”

 

The two men regarded him in silence for a moment, Hayes shook his head finally and stood up, “Commodore, you painted a good picture there, plausible and enough to build up a case against her.”

 

“This Claude Callaghan …” Adam said as he stretched his leg slightly to ease the ache in it, “Have you located him yet?”

 

The other two men looked at one another, Evarts shook his head “Not yet, but perhaps we shall do soon.”

 

He stepped away from the desk now and looked towards where he had left his hat, the clock now chimed twice, Hayes extended his hand “Thank you, Adam.  I’d prefer you kept this interview to yourself, it’s highly confidential as you must realise.”

 

Adam nodded, saluted his superior officer and nodded over to Evarts before leaving the room.  He closed the door behind him and walked slowly down the corridor.  Evarts and the President shuffled the papers together “Well,” Hayes said quietly, “He’s just about everything Grant said of him …”

 

“Can we trust him?” Evarts asked as he placed the papers into a large envelope which he sealed with red wax.

 

“Yes,” The President replied, “Yes, undoubtedly.”

 

Evarts nodded, the Presidential seal was placed on the hot wax and the words ’Classified’ stamped across the front of the envelope.  The matter was now closed.

 

………..

 

Jotham Morton was snoring in the big chair in Adams cabin when the Commodore entered it.  He smiled and shook  his head slightly before slowly removing his jacket, he went to his desk and sat down, removed the log book and surveyed the letter he had began to write to Olivia.  He picked up his pen and then set it back down as weariness swept over him.  He wanted to get home and put the whole sordid matter of the Jeffersons behind him, that and the realisation yet again that politicians could never be trusted. He smiled to himself as the memory of a familiar figure with silver box in one hand and a cigarette in another spat out “Politics, pah!” 

 

 

Chapter 74

 

The two officers shared the morning meal together before Jotham departed for his new assignment.  With a smile and twinkle in his eye Jotham confirmed to Adam that his interview with Evarts had been run along similar lines to his own, and that he had turned a deaf ear to any comments about clubs or secret societies.  He was quite perplexed when Adam told him that Mrs Jefferson had accused him of disclosing the ‘club’ and that was the reason the point was laboured so much during both their interviews.

 

“I think,” Jotham said as the two men made their way to the deck “that Mrs Jefferson was afraid that we did know the kind of social circles her husband preferred and wanted to ensure that we didn’t know, for her own peace of mind.  A woman in her position would not want the world to know exactly what her husband was getting up to in the privacy of this so called club.”

 

“I think we shall be able to leave it to Mr Evarts to deal with the matter, Jotham, and put it out of our minds. I know for sure that I’ll be more than glad to do so.”

 

Jotham smiled and nodded “As I’ve said all along, Adam, this has been a very strange assignment.”

 

“Good thing our English friend isn’t here taking notes now, isn’t it?”

 

They laughed a little over that, shook hands and then parted.  Captain Jotham Morton was piped from the Shenandoah by the ship’s company and took his place inside a cab waiting for passengers on the wharf side.  He leaned out of the window to give a final wave of the hand to the Commodore who was watching him leave before he also turned to make his way back to his cabin. 

 

“Ames?” 

 

“Yes, Commodore?” the steward paused in the act of carrying a tray which bore the detritus of the officer’s morning meal.

 

“Has there been no mail drop since we berthed?”

 

Ames frowned, then shook his head “The last mail we received was while we were in Brazil, just before we left, sir.  The Aggamenon delivered some, but we have received nothing since then.”

 

Adam scowled slightly, gave a nod and made his way to the cabin.  This was frustrating, having to wait in order to know what he could do next.  No mail to read, no news to catch up on.  He recalled the last letters contained information regarding Ben visiting Sacramento, to see some lost relatives of Martha Frobishers, which had rather amused him when he had read it.  Then Olivia’s letter saying how Reuben had been bullied at school but seemed to be holding his own, Sofia having piano lessons.  Joe and Hoss were about to go on a cattle drive .. He rolled his eyes heavenwards, what if something had happened to them?  Surely there was some means to receive some news!

 

He returned to his desk and picked up his pen, at least he can write but then, no, he put the pen down, why write when, hopefully, he would be home and able to relay any news he had to tell them by word of mouth.  He lounged against the back of his chair and stared at the far wall, knowing that most of his men were on shore leave, some had even been granted extended leave which meant that if his orders were to sail within the coming week they would be without the correct number of men.  He picked up his pen again and dipped it into the ink, it hovered over the white paper and he was about to write down something when there was a knock on the door, and to his gruff “Enter” the young man who had been his escort the previous day  stepped into the cabin.

 

He put down the pen “Good morning, Captain Williams, what can I do for you?”

 

“Compliments of Admiral Barlow, sir.  He would like you to attend upon him within the hour.”

 

Adam scowled again, this could only mean another assignment and something within him rebelled.  He remembered, as he pulled on his jacket, that he had tendered his resignation several times now, but this time when he handed it in, he was not going to be persuaded to take it back.

 

………..

 

Reuben stepped back from the horse and admired her from a few feet away, the curry brush still in his hand “She’s beautiful, Uncle Joe, isn’t she?”

 

“She is, she lives up to her name that’s for sure.” Joe smiled and reached out his hand to stroke the silky mane of the horse who nodded her head as though she agreed with him entirely, yes, she was beautiful, she was perfect just as her name said.

 

“The colts come along real fine, hasn’t he?” Reuben observed standing closer to his Uncle Joe to watch as the gangly colt raced round and round the corral as though showing off his long legs and strong young body.

 

“He is, I think they both settled in real well here now.  The weather has been good and they don’t seem to be missing Egypt at all, do they?”

 

Joe put his hand on Reubens shoulder and together they walked out from the corral, closed the gate and leaned against the bars to watch the two horses, “Thought of a name for him yet?”

 

“No, I wanted to wait til Pa came home, after all …” the boy paused and sighed, folded his arms on the corral bar and leaned his chin upon them “They were his present really, weren’t they?”

 

“Mmm,” Joe nodded and imitated his nephews stance, folding his arms on the top most bar, “Still, I think you’re right, it would be a good idea to wait for Adam to get back.”

 

“I guess he’ll be home real soon now.”

 

“I guess he will.” Joe said quietly, and frowned slightly, “Have you heard from him?”

 

“No, not yet.  Ma said there ain’t no mail boxes in the oceans.”

 

Joe smiled and ruffled the boys hair, then looked over at the house “There’s your aunt, guess that means lunch is ready.”

 

“Ma said she wouldn’t be too late, she was just going to make sure Sheriff Coffee was alright and do some shopping.  Aunt Hester went with her too.”

 

“I know,” Joe smiled, “Your aunt Hester said she was going to stop by Bridie’s to see if there was a chocolate cake ready for collection.”

 

Reuben flashed a wide grin and looked up at his uncle’s smiling face “I really like Bridie’s chocolate cake.”

 

Joe’s laugh floated towards where his wife was standing waiting for him, she shook her head “Hurry up you two or there will  be nothing left, Hoss and your Pa are here already don’t forget.”

 

There couldn’t have been a more pleasant scene that that as the man and the boy walked together to the house, his hand on the boy’s shoulder, the young woman at the door with her white apron drifting in the breeze and the two horses wheeling around the corral feeling the sun upon their backs with a blue sky above them … it couldn’t have been more perfect.

 

……………..

 

Roy Coffee was propped up by pillows and tucked up safely in a wheelchair.  He was reading the letter that had arrived from Genoa for him that morning, safely delivered by Hester who had arrived with Olivia to make sure he was safe and sound in wind and limb.   Flowers, cakes, calves foot jelly, pickled walnuts, pickled beetroot, pickled almost everything one could think of , plants, books, cakes and pastries and cards continued to arrive daily as a testimony of the affection the old man was held by his family, and even beyond those in VC.

 

He had been amazed and bemused by the correspondence that was arriving from all manner of locations, all from men and women and children who remembered him with loving affection and gratitude for some thing he had done on their behalf at some time in the past.

 

“Anyone would think I was already dead the amount of flowers there are here…” he had grumbled to Hester when she had come into the room

 

“There are a lot,” she replied, “I can barely see you for them all.” 

 

He had smiled at that and nodded over at Olivia “How’s the boy?”

 

“He’s very well, Roy, he doesn’t mention what happened any more, and he doesn’t dream about it either.”

 

“That’s good. I’m glad about that.” Roy nodded and bowed his head thoughtfully as Hester had plumped up the pillows and tucked in a blanket around his legs “I should be up and about soon.  I’d actually be up now if it weren’t for Bridie, she’s bossier than her husband.”

 

“She just wants to make sure you’re well enough,” Hester had scolded and then handed him the letter, “Here you are, I think this is the letter you’ve been waiting for.”

 

“Recognised her writing, huh?”

 

So now here he sat with the letter in his hand while Hester and Olivia prepared some coffee and food for him in the little kitchen.  With their voices as a back drop sound to his concentration he began to read: 

 

My dear brother, Roy

 

I was very pleased to hear that you are now well on the way to recovery.  Mrs Hawkins and Mrs Garston have been very kind in keeping me informed as to how things have been with you.

 

Roy, please believe me when I say I didn’t think anything like this could or would happen.  It has been the most horrible experience of my life, you can’t imagine how it has been for me, Roy.  I still dream of his hands around my neck and that awful darkness falling down upon me.  I am so grateful to the doctor here for his care, I think I would have died, Roy, my heart is utterly broken.

 

I had such faith in him, I thought at first it was some one pretending to be Alfred when Candy pulled off all that false hair. I thought poor Alfred had been killed and this monster was acting to be him so he could get my money.  But then .. I was only fooling myself, it was his eyes, those cold  blue eyes, that told me how much he hated me. All he wanted was my money.

 

Well, I have moved to Genoa, Roy.  I have bought a small house in town with a little garden, and shall settle here very nicely.  I have enough money to live on, certainly to see me through this miserable vale of tears.

 

Affectionately

Rachel,”

 

Well, that was that then.  He folded the letter up and slipped it back into its envelope.  Perhaps he’d get down to replying - one day.  He wondered if she had read the newspaper accounts of Alfred Stone/Harry Cochrane’s trial and execution.  Judge Hardy hadn’t wasted much time sentencing the wretched man.  Everyone was glad that he had given them a day to recover from the shock of Leslie Downing’s sentencing before he had got a jury arranged and allowed the public in to hear testimony against him.  Roy had still been too ill, but the Doctor and Sheriff Canaday had testified about his condition and Ben had been the witness to tell how it had all happened.

 

Mrs Evans had been there as well, stony faced and cold eyed, she had stared hard at Cochrane throughout the trial and everyone could see that as far as she was concerned he was going to hang, and if the Judge didn’t pass that sentence then she would, by heaven, she would. 

 

But Cochrane had listened to his confession being read out by Candy concerning Norman Evans’ death and had confirmed to the Judge that it was true.  Judge Hardy had barely any time at all to wash his hands before the jury had come back and entered its verdict ..Normans murder they already had the confession of that one, but to the attempts on the lives of Roy Coffee, Ben Cartwright and Rachel Darrow the townspeople were thrilled to hear old Judd Hogan declare the man guilty.  They were further thrilled at the verdict ..

 

“Harold Cochrane, you have been found guilty by this court and I now sentence you to be hanged by the neck until you are dead.  Sentence will be carried out tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”

 

So, that was it then.  The crowd had cheered and whooped, Cochrane had been led away, Candy, Ben and his boys had stood as a quiet island amid mayhem, Dan DeQuille had bustled away scribbling notes and with a determined look on his face. 

 

At the end of the next day Harold Cochrane was dead and buried in Boot Hill just outside of town, much to the delight of most there .  No one ever found out who had left a bunch of violets on his grave …

…….

 

In the carriage on the way to Admiralty Head Quarters Adam watched the streets of the city pass him by.  He thought over the past few days, thought of Howard Jefferson and of Brazil.  For some reason he found himself humming a tune, a tune he had forgotten long ago but one which now slipped unbidden into his head ..

 

“Poor Howards’ dead and gone,

 Poor Howard’s dead and gone,

 Poor Howard’s dead and gone

 No one left to hear his song ..”

 

Chapter 75

 

The Admiral had aged since he had last seen Adam but his smile was genuine as he extended his hand to shake that of the younger mans. “Well, Commodore Adam Cartwright, safely home again and your hide intact for once?”

 

Adam smiled and nodded, “For once,” and he sat down on the chair that the equerry had drawn over for him.  He looked around the room and then at the desk which shone like a mirror and reflected the Admirals image almost perfectly, the files and papers stacked around him indicated a man who liked things tidy which reminded Adam of his father’s desk, which seldom was - tidy, that is.

 

“How were things in Brazil?” Barlow asked as he folded his hands together, entwining his fat fingers in a way that resembled sausages Hop Sing would create for their supper.

 

“Hot and steamy, Admiral.”  Adam glanced over at the sound of a door opening and closing but it was only the equerry leaving the room for the two men to talk in private.

 

“Odd affair altogether,” Barlow mumbled with his brow creasing into plump folds above his eyebrows, “Must admit, I never liked Sackville Jefferson, he was too good at his job and made my skin crawl.”

 

Adam said only that he had never met the man so would take the Admiral’s word for it which earned him a sharp narrow eyed look from Barlow that indicated that he wasn’t fooled and that Adam shouldn’t expect him to be.  

 

“I understand that the matter is now closed, ‘put to bed’ so to speak?” Barlow murmured and leaned forward to take a folder from the top of the pile on his right hand side.  He opened it and took from it an envelope  “Do you remember this?”

 

Adam looked at it and nodded.  It seemed such a long time ago since he had handed that letter to Levy, he remembered how it had been slipped into the folder, ‘Could be there for years yet’ Levy had said with a cynical smile. 

 

Not exactly that many years, Adam mused as he watched Barlow remove the letter that was folded so neatly within the envelope.  It  had been before his marriage to Olivia, perhaps that would constitute sufficient time.  Suddenly he could feel his chest tightening, the pulses in his ears began to thud loudly, like drums in the distance.  He straightened his back and sat taller in the chair in order to maintain a steady breathing.

 

“Mmm,” Barlow read through it and then looked over the top of it to stare at Adam “Still feel the same way?  Still want to make it official?”

 

“My resignation?  Yes, of course.” Adam heard himself saying but that sounded like it came from a long way away as well.

 

“The President found this letter among your paperwork, a big fat file that sits on his desk and which he enjoyed reading so much. He sent it to me earlier this morning ..” Barlow tapped his fingers on his desk leaving slightly smudged prints on the highly polished surface.  “Do you know that he’s forbidden alcohol to be seen anywhere in Government offices?”

 

“I had heard,” Adam muttered with his eyes on the letter and wondering what exactly Barlow was playing at, why he couldn’t just come out and say whatever it was to be said.

 

“Look, Adam, I’ll tell you something straight, man to man ..” the Admiral leaned back and tossed the letter onto the desk, “I don’t want you to leave the service, you’re too valuable a man, you’ve proven time and again just how much we can rely on you.” he frowned and started to tap on the desk again “You rose quickly through the ranks, far quicker than many which didn’t sit well with the old guard around here, but then they didn’t get to know or understand your qualities in the way that I have been privileged to do.”

 

“Thank you, Admiral.” Adam said with a sigh.

 

“I remember the first time we met, shortly after that Pelman affair, and then his wife …goodness me, what a monster she was, beautiful though, have to admit, she was lovely.   Nearly did for you though, didn’t she?” fleshy lips parted in a smile and he nodded as though to himself, “The Jiang Peng affair … there are still ripples over that, you know?  Can’t trust the Empress for a second, and I’m expecting further trouble from her to erupt at any time.”  he grinned as though at a private joke “I don’t suppose you would like to take command of the Baltimore again and sort things out for us over there, would you?”

 

“Is that an order, Admiral?”  Adams voice held a slight note of anxiety but Barlow laughed and shook his head before he became serious again.

 

“No, no, nothing like that …” he muttered and picked up the letter again, “I was more than sorry about the loss of Captain O’Brien,  he was a good officer, and a fine man.”

 

“Yes, sir, he was… I was privileged to serve with several good men.” and Adam remembered Hathaway, who had died so suddenly along with the majority of his crew.

 

“Adam,” Barlow paused, he sighed, “I’m sorry that I have to say this, I feel as though I am losing one of the best men in the service but I’m under orders from the President…”

 

Adam felt his heart quicken, his mind fluttered from one idea to another, before he nodded and said “From the President, sir?”

 

“As I say he found this letter among your papers, along with Levy’s report…you refused to go to China again at the time …” Barlow sighed, again, and nodded “Nothings written in stone, you know, Adam.   The President has ordered that should you still wish to tender your resignation …”

 

“I do.” Adam said and raised his chin as though to challenge whatever the Admiral was to say next.

 

Barlow nodded and stood up, he slipped the letter back into the envelope “Your contracted time of service was coming to a close, Commodore.  You realise that, of course?  But as from today your resignation has been accepted. The President wishes you well in your future, as do I.”

 

Was that it?  Was that all there was to it?  Adam stood up, stared at the Admiral who smiled and extended his hand “As I said, Adam, nothings written in stone, even if, sometimes we would wish it were …”

 

They shook hands, Adam dithered, he was at a loss, what did he do now?  Just march out?  Where did he go?  To the ship … not his command anymore obviously … he cleared his throat “Who will take command of the Shenandoah, sir?”

 

“Captain Myers.”  Barlow said, having sat down and signed a paper which he handed to Adam, “All paperwork relating to your leaving the service will be forwarded to you, Adam.  All you have to do now is collect your private belongings and as from mid day today, you become merely a private citizen.”   he paused “Of course, you do know that should America be drawn into a war, should your services be required, you will be called upon to resume active duty immediately, you understand that, don’t you?”

 

Adam nodded, he knew that clause in the legalities of service only too well, a case of a man being free to go but only upon certain conditions.  He saluted the Admiral “Thank you, sir.”

 

“Well, thank the President, if it had been me I’d have torn the damn letter up and forgotten about it.  I’ll miss you, Commodore.”

 

Adam nodded, picked up his hat and saluted again.  

 

He heard the click of his heels as he marched from the room, the sharp closing of the door behind him, navy personnel saluted him as he passed them by and he thought how in a few hours they’d not do that anymore, they’d not see him as anything other than a private citizen. 

 

He stood outside the building now and looked around him, inhaled deeply and then released his breath.  As he went down the steps to the main road he recalled the times he and O’Brien would walk down together, open their envelopes to see what their next assignment would be .. .but not this time.   This time was different, there were no envelopes to rip open, no more orders to be obeyed and complied with and for a moment he was overwhelmed with a feeling of loss, of bereavement. 

 

He hadn’t expected that, not such an emptiness in the pit of his stomach, an ache in the heart.  He stood there as though lost, totally and utterly lost.

 

“Cab, sir?”

 

He looked at the cab driver, then the cab itself and nodded, clambered inside and directed the man to the harbour where his ship was waiting for him, where his ship for the next two hours would welcome him back, enfold him in its claustrophobic warmth as he collected together his belongings and packed them away.   He leaned against the back of the seat and closed his eyes, put his hands to them to press against his eyelids… he was free, and suddenly the overwhelming fact hit him with the force of one of Hoss’ fists…he was free to go home, to be a real husband and father, to be with his family at the Ponderosa. 

 

He could go home.  

 

Chapter 76

 

From where he was standing at the doorway of his store, or what had been his store until he had signed the contract selling it to Amanda Ridley, Andrew Downing watched the comings and goings of those who had been his neighbours for so many years.

 

He could recall moving in and taking over the store not long after the situation with Sam Bryant, when he had purchased the place from the widow of the previous owner, Mr Cameron.  Leslie had not even been born then and it all seemed such a long time ago now.

 

He moved away from the door to step into the store itself, and watched as his wife did a last inventory of the goods there… lamps and glass funnels, bales of cloth, pretty and plain; chinaware dainty as well as hardy; pots, pans and pails; candles and matches, books and papers and pens and inks.   He sighed deeply and shook his head sorrowfully. .  

 

Since Leslie had been taken to Yuma Mr Downing had shrunk, his flesh hung upon him like a suit that was too big for its owner.  His eyes bulged from their sockets and there were days when he didn’t bother to shave, even when he had gone through the pretence of serving in the shop.  There hadn’t been that many customers since the shooting incident, even less after the trial.

 

That was what really worked in Mrs Downings favour with regard to selling up and moving out.  All she wanted really was to be near her boy, but Andrew had stuck his heels in and determined that they would just stay where they were and no Cartwrights were going to run him out of town.   Even when she screamed at him that there were no Cartwrights to blame, that there was no one at fault except themselves he had remained stubborn.

 

But a man has to live and do the best by his family, and with custom slacking off, the profits - well, there were no profits - and Miss Ridley sniffing around, it made no sense to just see everything go to ruin when he could sell and start afresh elsewhere.  So Mrs Downing had won in a curious kind of way, and while she crowed in triumph and joy at the thought of being able to visit her son in prison more regularly, he had to be content with seeing everything he had worked for being docketed and packed away for someone else’s profit.

 

He saw Hester Cartwright walking past the store with her children and Olivia Cartwright with the baby and her little girl, he watched them as they laughed and chattered together.  Cartwrights!  Everywhere he looked there were Cartwrights.  He watched them as they crossed the road and - would you believe it - there was that other Cartwright woman, Mary Ann, coming out of the doctors surgery with a big smile on her face, her little boy holding her hand and jumping up and down as though he had swallowed a whole passal of jumping beans.

 

So far as Downing was concerned the family from the Ponderosa haunted him.  From the moment the Downings had moved in to Virginia City it seemed to him that whenever there was any trouble in town the Cartwrights would be involved in some way.  If the sheriff formed a posse, they had to be included.  If a decision about cattle and such they had to be part of the Cattlemans Association and voice their opinions, same with the school, same with practically everything that seemed to be happening in the territory he could guarantee that there would be a Cartwright involved somehow or another.

 

Then there was that one that decided Virginia City and the Ponderosa wasn’t good enough or big enough for him. He had to go get on a ship and mess about and interfere with things all over those oceans. 

 

Mrs Downing looked over at him and felt a niggle of unease settle in the back of mind, “Andy?  Are  you alright?”

 

“Alright? Alright?” his eyes bulged a little more and veins stood out at his temples, “How do you expect me to feel alright while my whole life is being dismantled right before my eyes?  Everything we worked for - gone !”

 

Her shoulders drooped and she lowered her arms from where she had been noting down some linen on a top shelf, “We’ve talk this over and over, Andy.   Please don’t start all over again.  We’re doing this for Leslie - remember?”

 

“As if you’d ever let me forget.” he grumbled and returned to the door, he could see the three Cartwright women now taking themselves and their brood down to the restaurant on the corner, getting on with their lives with no thought of having ruined his .. .. He shook his head and stormed back inside, slamming the door so hard that everything on the shelves rattled.

 

Mrs Downing decided that she would say and do nothing.  She continued with her inventory and with one eye on her notepad and the other on her husband  mumbled down item by item.  It had been, so far as she was concerned, a real blessing that Miss Ridley had decided to expand her ‘empire’.  Ever since she had come into that money from those shares in Timothy O’Brien’s mine she had been spending lavishly and getting profits back.  It seemed that suddenly everything that Amanda Ridley touched turned to gold.  It was she who had approached them with the idea of selling to her, she wanted to open a very special dress and hat shop and they were in an ideal location for just such a one.

 

Tracy paused a moment and waited as she heard her husbands heavy footsteps on the stairs that led to their domestic quarters.  She knew what he would do now, he’d find that half empty bottle of whiskey and drink himself into oblivion.  Dr Martin had warned him that if he carried on drinking so heavily he’d kill himself.  Sometimes Mrs Downing wished he would, and hurry up about it as well. Most times she just wept inside and kept quiet, thought of her son and felt guilt overwhelm her once more.

 

It was an hour later when she went up to see if her husband would like a drink of coffee with some seed cake she had bought from the bakers across the road.  She had entered the room with a smile on her face even though her eyes were blank with exhaustion and worry “Andy, I’ve -”  she looked around and even turned herself in a circle to see if she could find him, but he had gone, the room was empty.

 

Hurrying downstairs she ran to the back of the yard where the buggy and horse were kept, and that was empty too.  She looked around her and called his name, hurried to the front and looked up and down the main street, but there was no sign of him anywhere.

 

She watched as Eddy from the Telegraph Depot stepped out of the building and stood there with his thumbs through his braces just to look up and down and get the air, she crossed over the road “Eddy, have you seen my Andy?”

 

“No, Mrs Downing, not a sign. Been too busy.”

 

Candy Canaday was strolling towards them and nodded.  He felt extremely sorry for Mrs Downing, it seemed to him that she had been more a victim of the tragedy around that school yard killing than anyone else in that family so he had more time for her as a result, he removed his hat politely “Anything I can do to help, Mrs Downing?”

 

“No, nothing, thank you.” Tracy replied with her nose in the air, after all, it was him, the sheriff, who had been so unkind to her boy.

 

“She’s lost her husband.” Eddy said and turned back into the building as the sound of the machine clicking out another message was heard from within.

 

“I’m sorry, Mrs Downing.  Did your husband give you any idea of where he was going to go?”

 

She heaved an exaggerated sigh and glared at him “If he had told me that then he wouldn’t be lost now, would he?”

 

Duly rebuked Candy stepped back and watched the irate woman return to the store.  He watched as the door slammed shut and then shook his head, Eddy came out and joined him, for a moment the two men stood side by side staring at the store before Eddy asked Candy if he had seen Mrs Olivia Cartwright.  “Last I saw of her she was going into the restaurant with the other Mrs Cartwrights.”

 

Eddy nodded and glanced at the cable in his hand “Don’t suppose you could go and give this to her, could you?  I reckon on how she’d be mighty pleased to receive this one.” he grinned and Candy glanced at his kindly face, then down at the cable and smiled, nodded and hurried off down the road with it in his hand.

……………

 

Downing urged the horse onwards, he looked up at the sky and saw only the blue smattered with white clouds, a few birds wheeled and dived and sought shelter among some trees.  If all went well he’d show those Cartwrights what he really thought of them.  He would prove to them that he wasn’t going to slink away like a beaten old man, he’d leave town with a bang, people would know he wasn’t going to take being ordered about by any Cartwrights.

 

The horse loped along and the dust billowed about its hooves, but Downing continued to muse over his fancied grievances with the Cartwrights.  Tracy had said the previous night that he was envious of them, she had reminded him how many times they had helped them out when times were tough by making sure they ordered and purchased things from them instead of anywhere else.  He had only told her to stop ‘rubbing it in’, he had told her that had been their way of softening her up so that she couldn’t see what they were really like.. Envious, him?  Of the Cartwrights?  Ridiculous.

 

He hadn’t taken the road to the Ponderosa for a long time and had forgotten just how long it was and how far from town it turned out to be but eventually he reached the branch in the road that led to the houses.   He passed the first one nestled down a track  someway, and urged the horse onwards until he came to the part of the road which forked to the left where Joe Cartwright lived, he took the fork to the right towards the Ponderosa itself, the main house, the original one that had been built even before Virginia City had existed.

 

He drove into the yard and waited for a while, just long enough for a curious ranch hand or  house boy to come out to see who had arrived…   he watched the house carefully for signs of life, after all he rather liked old Hop Sing, he wouldn‘t want him to come to any harm. 

 

Emboldened he walked to the front door and banged on it loudly.  It echoed slightly … he pushed the door open, amazed at the conceit of these people who never locked their doors, and then stepped into the room.  Not a sound.  No fire in the hearth either.  For a moment he was almost overwhelmed by panic, a fear of what he was planning to do, a wish now that he could turn back the clock or at least get into the buggy and ride on home.

 

But, he had set his mind on a course of action, no one would be hurt, no one would be injured, not even the mighty Ben Cartwright.  He returned to the buggy and unloaded the two jars he had brought along with him and then re-entered the house, the contents of the jars he liberally splattered over furniture and floors and rugs.  After that came the small barrel containing the black powder which he set on top of the bureau that was positioned behind the settee, a trail of black powder from the keg to the door, from the door across the porch, and then the match .. He glanced skywards, everything was calm and still. He smiled as he struck the match and put it to the end of the thin black line that led to the door.

 

The rapidity of ignition caught him rather by surprise, he dashed for the buggy and got it turned around in the yard as the flare of the flame made its way to the door, crept under it and into the big room.

 

He had reached the track that led to Adam Cartwrights house when the explosion went off… it made the ground shake momentarily, and the horse, frightened and now confused bolted for its life, bearing the buggy with its occupant along with it.

………………..

 

“Did you hear that?” Hoss asked, and raised his eyes to the sky “Thunder?”

 

“No rain.” Joe replied and wiped his brow on his shirt tail, “Sky ain’t got a cloud in it, not a rain cloud anyway.”

 

Ben rubbed his jaw and looked around him, then shrugged “It came from the Ponderosa…” he paused, then turned in the direction of the ranch house and dropped the mallet that was in his hand “what in heaven…?”

 

The black plume of smoke rose skywards like a probing finger stabbing at the sky.  “The house…” Joe cried and threw his spade down onto the ground, “The house is on fire…”

 

Hoss felt panic hit his throat “Hester … the children …”  it was all that he could do to get his legs moving and it was only when he was actually in the saddle that he remembered, with relief, that Hester was in town, as were the other women, and children.

 

All except one.

 

Chapter 77

 

At the end of the day there was little one could say about what had happened.  Joe, Hoss and Ben were so exhausted and so emotionally drained that they were incapable of speech only the memories of everything kept rolling before their eyes as though they were hundreds of little pictures flicking through their brains as a constant reminder of all they had just witnessed.

 

Now they stood in a cluster with the men who had been close enough at hand to hurry to their aid in an attempt to save the Ponderosa ranch house.  Cheng Ho Lee and Hop Sing, who had been engaged in a battle of Mah Jong at Adams house, had added their own assistance as best they could and one memory that Hoss would always hold dear was that of Hop Sing getting into the kitchen area in order to save whatever he could from there, re-emerging with his pig tail on fire and his arms full of pots and pans.

 

The women and children had arrived from their trip into town, and after their initial shock and distress Mary Ann was sent to her home with the children  to look after  - being told firmly to remember her condition and just stay where she was - while Hester and Olivia joined in helping with the water chain. 

 

Once she had arrived home with the children Mary Ann told Sofia to keep an eye on the little ones, making sure Nathaniel was settled (blissfully unaware and still sleeping) while she began to prepare some food knowing that at the end of what was going to be a terrible day, there would be a need for nourishment of the body, even if the mind and spirit were broken.

 

Men  working on the range, upon seeing the column of smoke, rode in and promptly fell to working the sluices and filling buckets which were passed along the chain.  Hester worked alongside her husband, afraid to look at his face, to catch his eye while he hurled bucket upon bucket of water into the flames, his eyes glazed although filled with tears brought on by the smoke, heat as well as emotion.

 

Ben’s breathing was ragged, occasionally his hand would grip that of Olivia as they passed a bucket from one to the other and their eyes would meet but expressionless as though only the urgency of what they had to do was more important than anything else. 

 

Joe felt his heart raging against his ribs, he had attempted to run into the house but the force of the explosion and fire had started in that location so had made it impossible for him to enter the building, and he had been beaten back by the ferocity of the flames.

 

As more and more men joined them and helped he tugged at Hoss’ sleeve “Let’s go round the back, see if we can salvage anything from there?”

 

Hoss didn’t speak but pushed Joe forwards as though to make sure he was actually moving as fast as he could, so that together they reached the back of the building, Joe pointed to the window that had been Adams bedroom “If I can get up there and we can get a water chain organised we might be able to stop the fire from reaching higher and -”

 

“It’s too risky, Joe.  The roof could collapse in on you and we’d never be able to get you outa there.”

 

“Then what do you suggest?”  Joe wept and dashed a hand across his eyes to remove tears.

 

The roar of the flames was now tremendous, Ben had told Hester and Olivia to get back and join Mary Ann but both women refused to listen, only redoubling their efforts to help the men get the fire under control.   Hester suddenly noticed that her husband was missing and screamed for him at the top of her voice only to have Hop Sing assure her he was alright, “Gone round back of house -”

 

Cheng nodded “We go - see if need help.”

 

Hester watched as they scurried off and rounded the corner to disappear amidst flames and black smoke, she wiped her the bedraggled remnants of her sleeve across  her face and looked despairingly at Olivia “Olivia?  I don’t think we’re going to beat this…”

 

Olivia didn’t hear her she was too busy passing yet another water filled bucket along the chain while she struggled to maintain her balance in the muddy puddles that were forming in the yard now, slopped water soaked her clothing, the mud clung to the hem of her dress so that it made her efforts to walk clumsy as the sodden skirts wrapped around her feet.  

 

There was a lull for moments at the arrival of more men, Candy at the head of them, all of whom momentarily paused in awe at the sight of the fire - an unbelievable event - the Ponderosa in flames.  After that initial shock they all dismounted like one man and hurried to get more water, Hester grabbed at Candy’s arm “Hoss is round the back …”

 

With a quick nod of the head Candy beckoned to several men to join him and rushed to where Hoss and Joe had been, only to find no sign of them.  Candy looked up and pointed to the roof “Several men, get up higher and see if you can get water on those shingles…”

 

He was about to hurl some water at the building when Hoss suddenly appeared from the window of Adams room, followed by Joe …  “Good to see you here, Candy.  The top floor ain’t burning yet, we’re trying to keep the flames down but I ain’t sure we’re gonna have much success.”

 

“So long as we have enough men and water we can at least try.” Joe yelled to which Candy nodded and said he’d get more men and organise a water chain to get water round to the back.

 

There was an explosion of sound, the tinkling of glass “What the heck?” one of the men muttered

 

“A window just blew out,” Hoss growled, and looked upwards, through the smoke he could see the windows were still intact “Let’s get to work here…”

 

Over the course of the hours they fought to save the ranch house more men and some women had come from town to help fight the blaze. Someone  had, thankfully, gone to the aid of the horses in the stables, leading them out and settling them loose to run free in the fields.  This enabled Dr Martin and Jimmy Chang to stay in the stables with first aid to assist those who suffered burns, smoke inhalation or exhaustion.  Bridie went to help Mary Ann prepare nourishing food which Hop Sing and Cheng Ho Lee took to the barn in order to provide the men with something to sustain them.  It seemed as though the minutes were stretching into hours and nothing could possibly save the ranch house.

 

It was Ben who almost carried Olivia into the stables and set her down upon the straw in one of the stalls.  He looked around him at the blackened faces of the men who had come to help him, familiar faces, old friends, loyal ranch hands., even some strangers, all weary with drooping shoulders, exhaustion obvious.  Su Ling had arrived with several other women who had brought more food earlier, she now reached Olivia and began to wash around her face, she didn’t look up when Ben put a hand on her shoulder and then disappeared leaving his daughter in law in the care of someone who loved her.

 

It wasn’t long before Hester joined her, sent in under orders from her husband and Ben, so that when Olivia opened her eyes it was to see Hester looking down at her with tears running down her face  “Oh my goodness, Hester, is that you?” Olivia cried, and then began to laugh, hysterically, at the sight of Hester’s singed hair and black face where the only white to be seen were from where the tears that streaked her cheeks.

 

They clung together, crying unashamedly, until Su Ling forced them to eat some bread and soup. After some minutes had passed Olivia managed to ask, through a hoarse croak of a voice, had they seen the smoke from town, was that what brought them so quickly to help.

 

Su Ling shook her head slowly and sat down on a bale of straw “No, it was Reuben.”

 

“Reuben?  Oh nono, Reuben … is he alright?” and Olivia promptly burst into tears at the realisation that she had forgotten that her little boy had not been with them, had stayed at home, had been alone.  How could she have forgotten?  What kind of mother was she to have forgotten? 

 

Hester held her close and looked over at Su Ling for an explanation but the other woman was not one to be rushed, she waited until Olivia had calmed enough to hear what she had to say “Reuben came into town on Sport… rang the emergency bell and was shouting about the Ponderosa being on fire.  He was a real little hero, Olivia, you have every reason to be very proud of him”

 

“I forgot - I forgot he hadn’t been with us -” Olivia wept and buried her face in her hands while Hester made strange shushing noises through her own tears and rubbed her back

 

“Try and drink this,” Su Ling said gently, forcing Olivia’s  hands away from her face, “Come along now, drink this, it’ll help calm you down.”

 

Several other men came into the stable and barn for medical attention. Jimmy Chang had arrived with more men and more buckets, although the main need now was for the use of blankets soaked in the water to be used to extinguish what flames remained among the charred and smouldering ruins.

 

Hoss stepped inside the stable, located his wife and made his weary way to slump down by her side. He gratefully accepted some coffee from Hop Sing while Hester leaned against him,  Joe came and settled down beside Olivia, he wiped soot and grease from his brow “I can’t believe so many came to help in such a short time…”

 

“Reuben sounded the alarm in town, he rode in on Sport.” Hester said quietly and hugged into Hoss, “He must have seen the smoke from their place and gone straight there to get help.”

 

Joe nodded, so tired that he could  barely lift his head from his shoulders which ached as though he had personally climbed a mountain unaided.  “I’m so tired…” he murmured, and passed his hand across his face, keeping his face shielded for some time before he accepted the coffee that Cheng Ho Lee gave him “Did you tell Reuben to get into town, Cheng Ho Lee?”

 

Cheng shook his head “No, he go alone… not say when or where … later only Hop Sing and Cheng Ho Lee see the smoke and hear the bell from Ponderosa.”

 

Hoss nodded, he had a somewhat hazy memory of ringing that bell like a crazy man for as long as he could withstand the heat of the flames, he swallowed bread and washed it down with some coffee. 

…….

 

So, now they stood, the three Cartwrights, separated from the other men who had difted into groups of their own, or were beginning to disperse back to their homes.  Memories of all those hours fighting to save their home whittled down to a mere few, sharply defined, forever after pictures of horror and of loyal friendship and courage.

 

Olivia and Hester had been sent to Mary Ann where the children were tucked up in their beds, their weary mothers washed, bathed and wrapped warm blankets around themselves and fell onto the beds to fall immediately asleep, with Olivia reassured that her son was safe in Ann Canaday’s home.

 

Finally Hoss spat into the churned up mud, evidence of so many feet trampling so much water back and forth in the attempts to save their home, “Guess it could have been worse.”

 

“How?” Ben intoned in a voice that indicated that as far as he was concerned, it was just about as bad as it could possibly be.

 

“No one was killed.  Injuries were light.” Hoss muttered with his eyes fixed on the skeletal outline of what had been  home.

 

“Yeah, and we saved most of upstairs and half the roof.  Most of the damage was downstairs, Pa.  It isn’t the end of the Ponderosa.”

 

Ben said nothing to that, he only shook his head and wiped moisture from his eyes.  “Well, I guess there isn’t anything we can do now, best get home …” his voice caught, he shook his head again at the realisation of what he had said “Guess we had better find a bed for the night.  We’ll be able to see the damage more clearly tomorrow.”

 

Hoss glanced up at the sky and blinked “It’s raining …”

 

“A bit late.” Joe muttered as he turned towards the stables where Paul and Bridie were tending to the last of the injured and Mrs Garston was collecting up dirty dishes helped by Cheng Ho Lee and Hop Sing.

 

“Candy said he’s posting some men around the place to make sure that no fires break out from smouldering embers, that kind of thing…” Paul Martin said as he watched them enter the building, “Ben?”

 

“I’m alright, “ Ben said gruffly, “I’m alright,”  but at the door he turned to look back at the smoking ruins of his home and bowed his head, yes, he could thank God that no one was killed or seriously injured, but it seemed to him that something more than his home had come to ruins that day, and he couldn’t really explain to anyone else what exactly that was.

 

Chapter 78

 

The three Cartwright men, along with Hop Sing, were up before dawn the following day to make their way to the main house with sobering thoughts and fears gnawing at them like so many mice nibbling away frantically with sharp little teeth. When they finally reached the yard to stand before the smouldering ruin of their home, each one of them felt their hearts sink under the weight of despondency they felt. 

 

Hoss looked over at the stables and wandered in to check over the building, and wipe away tears, it seemed to him a miracle that it wasn’t worse, that the barn and stables were intact, with only the smell of fire lingering.  He looked over as Joe came in and stood like a dark silhouette in the entrance with the smokiness of the dying fire a miserable backdrop behind him.  “Hey, Joe - good thing someone thought to let the horses loose, they’d have gone kinda crazy in here otherwise.”

 

“Yeah, sure was -” Joe nodded and regarded his brother anxiously “You alright, Hoss?”

 

“Sure, I’m alright, could have been a whole lot worse after all.  How’s Pa?”

 

“He said the same as  you, keeps saying it in fact, guess he’s shocked, like we all are.” Joe licked dry lips and glanced up at the roof trusses and then around the stable, “We’ll have to get fresh feed in here, straw for the stalls, the horses won’t like being where there’s smoke about…”

 

“They’ll be alright in the open pasture for now, at least the air’s clean and fresh out there.” Hoss wiped his nose  and dabbed at his eyes “Shucks and dad burn it, Joe, who’d want to do anything like this?”

 

“Someone with a grudge I guess.” Joe placed a hand on his brothers’ shoulder, “C’mon, Pa wants to take a look around and see what can be salvaged.”

 

They walked out together, side by side, and then joined their father who was prowling around the charred and still smoking ruins of the front of the house.  Ben turned and nodded over at them as though he hadn‘t seen them earlier that morning nor taken that walk from Joe‘s home, his face was haggard, his eyes red rimmed but he mustered a smile “Well, boys, looks like we got some rebuilding to get on with.”

 

“Should keep us occupied for a while, Pa.” Joe said as light heartedly as he could although when he looked at the house he wondered exactly where they would start.

 

Ben made no reply but raised a hand to his brow and rubbed along his temple with his fingers, he pursed his lips and shook his head before striding forwards as though to survey the building at a closer distance.  Hop Sing suddenly emerged from the rear of the building and nodded, a smile creasing his face “Not much damage at back of house, all very good.”

 

Hoss walked to the back with Hop Sing to check for himself and was confronted by several men who approached him with weary warmth, Henry, the man Adam employed for the buildings of Joe’s property, was among them. “Rode in earlier this morning, Hoss.”

 

“Earlier!” Hoss exclaimed “Shucks, you must have started out when it was still dark.”

 

Henry grinned and rubbed the back of his neck then nodded over to Ben and Joe as they rounded the corner of the smouldering building “Morning, Mr Cartwright, Joe.”

 

“Well, Henry, good to see you, and the rest of you boys … been here on night watch, huh?”  Ben looked at men who nodded, yawned and stretched, Clem was among them, “Well, you’ll need some food inside of yourselves, best go up to Joe’s place and there’ll be something to eat for you there.”

 

Clem rubbed his nose and then approached Ben with a concerned look on his face “Ben, that fire didn’t start by itself you know…”

 

“Sadly, Clem, we didn’t think that it had.” Ben drawled and then sighed “What’s on your mind?  Speak plain..”

 

“Some of us had a good look around once it was safe enough to do so… seems like this fire wasn’t that well thought out, a kind of chance affair with everything thrown in at random.”

 

“Go on,” Hoss urged, pushing his very begrimed hat to the back of his head

 

“The fire was concentrated by the bureau behind the settee, and that took the main brunt of the explosion, looks like a small keg of dynamite was placed there, and kerosene thrown about the room..  What I’m saying is that it looks a real mess just now, but once you get rid of the debris you may find there’s more of your house standing than you’ think.”

 

“A small keg of gunpowder?” Joe frowned, “Someone took a mighty big risk toting that around, with kerosene too…”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I mean, it wasn’t very well thought out.  There’s even some charred remains of the keg, shows how small it was…” he beckoned to them to follow him and eventually came to where a small mound of debris had been collected and piled close to the back wall “We collected this together to show Candy… it’s evidence of someone wilfully and deliberately attempting to destroy your home, arson it’s called…” and Clem sighed and tried not to look too proud of himself for sounding so ‘efficiently legal’.

 

Ben probed with a finger at the circular metal ring that would have held the wooden slats of the barrel together, some wood still remained, charred and blackened, there were several fragments of broken jars where the kerosene must have been stored, he nodded, “Someone wanted to do us some damage …”

 

“If they had brought more gunpowder and had a proper fuse they’d have done a more effective job, whoever it was sure didn’t know much about priming a barrel of this stuff,” Clem walked now to the front of the house, “Guess once they did the job of lighting the powder,  whoever it was got on their horse and -”

 

“Or buggy.” Joe interjected with his hands on his hips, his face set into a scowl, “Carrying that stuff would have needed a buggy.”

 

“Well, he didn’t hang around to see if the gunpowder would blow, he just went right away.” Clem said.

 

“Well, thanks, Clem.” Ben said without the enthusiasm that Clem had expected, his summary seemed to him to have been perfect and worthy of commendation but to Ben and his boys it was just an idea of what could  have happened, anyone of them could dredge up an idea after all.

 

Hop Sing had been right though, the back of the house was quite sturdy still, and part of the kitchen was still intact although the part that wasn’t caused a storm of Cantonese outrage to pour forth from the irate cook.  

 

“The chimney’s still where it should be…” Joe observed with a slight smile and looking upwards he could see that Clem was right, there was more house still standing than they had first realised. 

 

Henry approached from another angle of the house with his thumbs in the pockets of his vest “I’ve had a look around, Mr Cartwright,  and I reckon that there’s more salvageable here than you may think.”

 

He stepped back, tugging at Bens arm as he did so and pointed to the roof and upper floor of the  house “The rooms at the back of the house were protected because all the doors were closed you see, most of the stairs are still there and half the roof as well .. It’s just the front of the building that’s gone.”

 

Ben nodded, he sighed and looked at Hoss and Joe who were staring at the roof as though they were regarding a miracle, then he looked at Henry “Thanks Henry.” he looked over at the other men who were still hanging around muttering in low voices to Clem, “You men, don’t you want to eat?”

 

They nodded, smiled, chuckled and began to make their way from the blackened building, Henry turned “I’ll head home and start doing some drawings, sir.  Do you want it to be built as it was or are there some changes you would like to make?”

 

Ben rubbed his chin, then looked at Joe and Hoss, he shook his head “I don’t know. Best ask Hoss what he would prefer…”

 

They watched as he turned to walk away, then looked at one another, Henry bit down on his bottom lip, “Took it real bad hasn’t he?”

 

Hoss nodded “Yeah, this building was like a dream that came true, Henry.  Adam designed it, you know, and Pa always said he’d build our home as true to Adams design as he could… after all, Adam was just a kid at the time.   We worked hard on getting it done, I can remember watching my Pa on his hands and knees smoothing out the floorboards, and working on the shingles for the roof .. It ain’t just a house that got burned down, it’s kinda like he’s been robbed of his dream.  Guess that don’t make much sense does it, but you’d have to understand the hardships my Pa and brother went through to reach here, to get this place built.”

 

As he finished speaking there came a crash and a thud, dust and soot and smoke billowed out from the remains of the front of the house… Joe coughed and waved his hat in front of his face, screwed up his eyes to see more clearly and shook his head “Oh well, that’s the rest of the stair case come down.”  he muttered and with bowed head put his arm across Hoss’ broad back and slowly walked away.

 

The sound of horses approaching stopped Ben, Hoss and Joe along with Hop Sing and Clem while they waited for the riders to show themselves, and it was only when a shout of “Gran’pa … Gran’pa” drifted towards them that they finally saw a smile spread over Ben Cartwrights face as he turned to welcome his grandson into the yard.

 

Candy and Reuben dismounted and it gave Candy a leap to the throat to watch as Reuben ran across the yard and threw himself into Ben’s arms “I’m sorry, Gran’pa …I’m sorry.”

 

“What for, son?” Ben knelt down to give the boy a closer hug “What are you sorry for?”

 

“I didn’t think, I should have told Hop Sing and Cheng …I should have rang the bell here and forgot, I just only wanted to get  help soon as I could.” Reuben buried his face into Ben’s shoulder as tears welled up in his eyes.”

 

“Hey now, you did all that you could have done,” Ben said gently and Hoss leaned forward and gave Reuben a clumsy pat on the shoulder “You sure did, little fella, you got a whole heap of help in here that we’d never have got if’n you’d taken time over it.”

 

“Hoss is right, Reuben” Joe said with a smile in his voice “It would have taken forever to get Hop Sing and Cheng Ho Lee to stop playing Mah Jong.  You did the right thing -” he paused and looked at Candy who gave a slight nod of the head “and the bravest thing too, you rode Sport all the way into town by yourself.”

 

“I was grooming him for Pa.  I promised I would take care of him so it seemed just the best idea to ride him into town but …” he sighed “did it really help?”

 

Ben nodded and smiled, he stood up and stretched out his arm to point at the remains of the ranch house “It really did, Reuben, without all the help that came from folk in town there would have been nothing left at all.”

 

Clem and Candy were talking in quiet tones closer to the house where Clem was showing the sheriff the debris he had found, then they both disappeared looking anxiously for further clues as to who the arsonist could have been.  Ben smiled down at the boy and ruffled his hair “Come on, your mother’s anxious about you.”

 

“Is she alright?  I saw Flannel in town, she was all of a mess.  Sofia’s alright isn’t she?”

 

“Sofia stayed with Aunt Mary Ann, but your Aunt Hester and your Ma were here to help put the fire out, they were very brave.”

 

Reuben felt his heart swell with pride at the thought of his Ma and aunt fighting the fire, then he glanced over his shoulder at the house, “Pa will sure be mad that he missed it,” he sighed, “He’d have been sure to have found who did it too.”

 

Hoss and Joe looked at one another and grinned, Hoss winked at his brother “Don’t say much for us, does it, shortshanks?”

 

“Aw, what does he know, he’s only a kid.” Joe smirked but it gave him a glow of pleasure to hear Reuben talking about Adam in such a confident manner and he saw from the way that Ben squeezed the boys shoulder the pride he had in him.

 

Chapter 79

 

Sometimes the lack of news from home can cause more concerns than if the very worst of news had been written in a ream of letters.  Adam had checked with the hotel where he normally lodged and had been told that no mail had been sent to him.  He had rechecked with Ames before disembarking and the steward had confirmed that there were no letters, nothing at all, in the mail drop since Brazil.

 

Now as he sat on the train making its slow and laborious way home Adam began to worry and fret.   He told himself that no news was good news, only to counter it with no news was the worst of news.  He imagined the worst of everything so that sleep became elusive and when he did get some sleep dreams chased after themselves throughout.

 

He had time however to consider his departure from the ship, and from his naval career. The ships crew had given him a rowdy farewell and he had been whistled from the deck and saluted in a memorable way.  Yes, it had been memorable, his men assembled in their best to give him a brisk salute, men from the rigging, on the deck and at the gangway, saluting, the whistles going, fog horn blasting so that ships up and down the harbour had joined the medley.

 

And it had been hard.  Much harder than he had imagined it could have been after so many years of longing to be free to pursue his own life, especially since his marriage. As he had watched his trunk and other baggage being stowed into the boot of the cab he had scanned the harbour and looked at the ships and felt that tug to the heart that was so familiar to him.  Memories of good friends …O’Brien, Hathaway, Myers, Jeffrey Jamieson and Morton were just that now, just memories.  And there were the foes too… Pelman, Cassandra, Metcalfe, Doestov and Lebedev  … all gone leaving their imprint upon his nightmares. 

 

There had been memorable others as well upon whom he could think with fondness - Laurence and Rachel Willoughby, Ibarim, the camel, as if he would ever forget that camel.  Still others who left their mark on his hide and he heaved in a deep sigh when he thought of Jiang Peng.

 

So many  brave men who had been at his side through the darkest of times, and others who had fallen, whom he would never see again in this life time.

 

He watched the cities drop away during the days it took to journey home.  Every so often he would send a telegraph just to let his loved ones know that he was coming home, and each cable indicated that he was drawing closer, and nearer.

 

…………………..

 

Mrs Downing sat beside her husband and wondered if she had done wrong by leaving Virginia City with him instead of going to the sheriff to tell him what she knew.  Even now she closed her eyes in order not to look upon her husband or to see once again the things that had caused her suspicions of him; he could never pretend, never lie and get away with it to her. Throughout their lives together he lied, that was for sure, and because he was a bully she had said nothing, but she always knew that much of what he had said, hadn’t been true.

 

Even now as the train made its way through the territory she couldn’t help but think over what she had seen the day the Ponderosa ranch house had  been burned down.  The bell clanging and the child yelling for help as he pulled on the rope, and the way the townsfolk had responded, men getting on their horses, couples clambering into their buggies or rigs and hurtling out of town.  Everyone seemed to be making a mass exodus to wards the Ponderosa leaving those unable to standing and feeling useless and strangely alienated.

 

She had remembered the empty stable where she and her husband had kept their horse and buggy, perhaps he would see these people on his way from wherever he had gone and go to give some help as well. She had hoped that was the case, somehow it made her feel a little less worthless and when Amanda Ridley had come in to check the place over, and commented on Mr Downings absence, Tracy had just said no doubt he was on his way to help on the Ponderosa.

 

But then that had just made the disappointment worse… when he had entered the store from the back room he had looked ill.  Not just sick, because he’d been looking the worst for wear ever since Leslie had been sentenced.  He looked guilty, but of what?  He had turned his narrow beady eyes on her and then hurriedly looked away, shouted at her to stop standing there like some kind of fool and get on with her business. 

 

There was the smell too, that smell she knew so well from having poured so much kerosene from a jar into small containers for their customers.  Then going to the stable and seeing the poor horse, head down, breathing heavy, sweating…and she had had to unharness it, check on it and feed and water it. Poor creature, he had been driven hard to reach town so fast.

 

Then when she had gone upstairs and the way he had rounded on her, accusing her of going behind his back, doing this, doing that and she didn’t have a clue as to what he was talking about until he grew silent and just slumped into a chair.  “Get me something to eat.”

 

“What about the horse?  It needs looking after… where’ve you  been?  The poor creature looks like its been driven to exhaustion.  What have you been doing?”

 

All the wrong questions, of course.  It had been her fear that had made her ask, fear and loathing.  It was the realisation of how much she loathed him that had fed the fear, she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that about herself.  He had blustered about her not having the right to question him, what kind of wife was she to badger him when  he had been busy all day because it was HER who wanted to leave town.

 

“What business have you  been on?”  she could hear herself now, that taunt in her voice, the sharpness of word brought about by bitterness and he had responded with a raised fist. 

 

She could remember the calm setting in, the way she had just folded her arms across her ample chest and said “So that’s what it comes down to is it?  Raised fists, is it?  After all this time when I’ve been loyal to you, watched the way you’ve bullied Leslie, tormented him until he didn’t know what kind of son you really wanted so all you ended up with was a replica of yourself.  Go ahead, hit me and prove to me what kind of man I’ve been married to all these years.”

 

So he had hit her, not once, but several times so that she shut her mouth and said nothing to anyone and left the store, left the town, and no body knew, except her, that  her husband had burned down the Ponderosa.

 

Now he sat beside her, a passenger on a train whom nobody knew but herself. He fell asleep eventually, snoring loudly in tune with the sounds of the train wheels turning endlessly towards their destination.   Mrs Downing opened her purse and extracted some paper, a pencil and envelope.  After thinking deeply for some minutes she began to write, the address was to Sheriff C. Canaday, Virginia City.

………………….

 

Ben had moved in with Olivia and the children, promising that it was merely a temporary measure until the Ponderosa had been rebuilt.  At the back of his mind he was hoping that Adam would return home and set everything to rights, and the telegrams that arrived truly appeared to make that hope a reality very soon.

 

Hoss and Hester with their children had moved in on Joe and Mary Ann, with Hop Sing taking over the kitchen so that ’little missy’, as he called Mary Ann, would not become too weary from the responsibility of the sudden influx in numbers living with them.

 

Over the days the ranch hands worked alongside the Cartwrights to remove the debris and rubble from the house.  What was salvageable was shored up to be incorporated into the new building.  Each day Ben felt more convinced that the Ponderosa, like the fabled phoenix, would indeed rise from the ashes.

 

Reuben spent his time with Kamille and the colt, while Sofia enjoyed time with her cousins.  Daniel was running around on sturdy little legs and Hope was his faithful shadow, although she still fell down occasionally.  Nathaniel had discovered he could be mobile as well, and succeeded in shifting from one place to another so quickly that Olivia had Hoss build a little barred cage where she could put him and know he would stay put while she went about her work.

 

It was during one of those leisurely days that Candy arrived with Ann and their children, and while they ran into Mary Ann’s home to mix and mingle with the family there, Candy rode down to the old ranch house and joined Ben and the boys.  He dismounted and strolled over to look at the blackened shell of the front of the house “Is it safe?”

 

“We had a structural engineer come and check whether or not it was,” Ben pushed back his hat and frowned, “We’ve had to remove the whole front of the house, that includes the bedrooms that were over the sitting room and main area of the kitchen.  The rooms at the back have only been damaged by smoke but are sturdy enough.”

 

“Wouldn’t it have been better to have pulled it all down and restart again?” Candy asked rather ruthlessly, as he pushed his hands into the pockets of  his pants and stared at the blackened joists that seemed to be suspended over thin air.

 

“Some may have done,” Hoss muttered, “Perhaps rightly so, but as there’s nothing wrong with what remains we’ll keep it as it is.”

 

Ben frowned and looked thoughtfully at the sheriff “What exactly have you come to see us about, Candy?”

 

“I actually wanted to see Reuben.” Candy replied, “during the course of the past few days I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened and I just need to ask him a few questions.”

 

“What about?  I don’t want the boy upset, Candy, he’s gone through a lot over the course of the past few months as it is.” Ben scowled darkly, his lips thinned over his teeth, the black eyes darkened.

 

“I know it,” Candy replied, “But I still have to ask him a few things. It won’t take much time, and it may not even amount to much … just to put my mind at peace, if that’s alright with you?”

 

Ben sighed and nodded, and beckoned to Reuben to join them.  The boy came with a smile and looked fondly up at his grandfather, “Reuben, Candy wants to ask you some questions about the day of the fire.  Are you alright about answering them?”

 

Reuben nodded and with wide guileless eyes looked at Candy with a smile so that the sheriff apologised for having to ask but could Reuben just repeat what had happened . With a slight pucker of the brow the boy told Candy all he could remember, how he was grooming Sport in the yard, there was a huge bang and Sport got nervous, shied away a little and knocked him off the hay bale.   “Then when I was getting up again I looked over to where I saw a big cloud of smoke, and fire, it was coming from the Ponderosa.”

 

“Why didn’t you run indoors and get Hop Sing and Cheng Ho Lee?” Candy asked seriously and Reuben shook his head and shrugged

 

“I don’t know, sir.  I was there with Sport so just got on his back and galloped out of the yard.  Up on the track I could see more clearly that the house was burning.” he paused, then looked nervously at Ben “I guess I should have gone for help then, I mean, got Hop Sing  or some of the men, but I thought they’d have seen it and would help Gran’pa.  I just thought I had to come and get help, as much as I could, and that meant coming into town.”

 

“Reuben, can you tell me if you saw anyone on the track to the town on the way in?”

 

“How d’you mean?”

 

“Well, I got to thinking that whoever set fire to the house didn’t hang around very long.  They rode back to town or maybe went somewhere to hide away before coming back…it was just possible you may have seen them.  In a buggy or wagon maybe?”

 

Reuben’s face settled into a scowl and he pouted slightly “There was only old Mr Downing.”

 

“Downing?” Candy and Ben both exclaimed together, loudly enough to draw Joe and Hoss’ attention from their work.

 

“What’s this about Downing?” Joe asked, wiping his hands on a rag as he approached them.

 

“Reuben saw Downing on the track to town on the day of the fire.” Ben said, and then looked at Reuben, placing a hand on his shoulder for reassurance “Whereabouts did  you see him?”

 

Reuben thought hard, then shrugged again, “I don’t recall exactly where, except that there was an outcrop of big boulders just off the road and he was driving the buggy up there.  I was a bit scared …” his voice lowered and he bit his bottom lip, his teeth made little indentations in the flesh as he did so.

 

“Why were you scared?” Candy asked.

 

“Well, I thought he had come to kill me.  He called me names at the trial, and Leslie’s in prison now, and it was my fault that he is… I thought for sure he had gone up there to hide in the rocks and shoot me so I put Sport into a fast run and bent real low so that he couldn’t get a bead on me …” he stopped then and looked up at the four anxious faces looking down at him, “That’s all really. I didn’t see anyone else until I got to the edge of town and I just yelled to anyone I saw passing by that the Ponderosa was on fire and we needed help.  There was Mr Hogan, and Mr Carmichael and …”  he paused as Ben placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“It’s alright, son, they all came to help, except for Mr Downing of course.” Ben smiled but above Reubens head he looked directly at Candy and raised his eyebrows, Candy nodded his agreement with the unspoken comment

 

Candy smiled, his blue eyes twinkled as he looked into Reuben’s freckled face, he cleared his throat now to ask another question “How did you get to town so quickly, Reuben?”

 

Reuben looked down at his feet and shuffled them about a bit “W-e-ll, its supposed to be a secret…”

 

Ben sighed and gave him a slight nudge of the shoulder “Go on, Reuben, you can’t keep secrets from the law, you know.”

 

“Pa showed me a short cut to town,  when I noticed Mr Downing going off the road I remembered what Pa said and about the short cut.”

 

“What did Pa say?” Hoss asked gently wondering if what he was thinking could actually be what had taken place, a memory from way back when Adam had taken a ride to prove a man could arrive in town sooner than anyone would have thought possible.

 

“Pa said if ever we were in any danger and needed to get to town real quick to go by this route, and then he took me all the way to town by it - it wasn’t too bad, a bit wild in some places though but Sport knew where he was going.”

 

“Thank you, Reuben, that was very helpful.” his blue eyes twinkled and he bent his knees to look into the boys face, “Your Pa’s going to be very proud of you, you know that, don’t you?”

 

“Do you think so?” Reuben’s face lit up with a smile that went almost from ear to ear, “He’s on his way home, you know, he’ll be home soon.”

 

Candy straightened up and nodded “Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” he said, and with a smile turned to make his way to his horse and as he mounted into the saddle he called out “Mary Ann said Hop Sing has lunch prepared…”

 

Chapter 80

 

There is a scripture in the book of Ecclesiastes that tells us that chance and unforeseen occurrence befall us all… and perhaps that principle applied in the case of two trains, going in opposite directions that drew up at the same station in a small town in the mid-west.

 

The platform alongside which the trains pulled up formed a small island that separated the tracks in order for the trains to proceed in their predestined directions.  With loud screeching of brakes and hissing and spitting involved the one heading west came to a  halt and passengers were encouraged to get out in order to ‘stretch their legs’.  There then followed the sounds of carriage doors opening and being slammed shut as passengers did as  was suggested.

 

One of the passengers was a broad shouldered man who stepped down onto the platform and looked about him with the curious air of someone looking for something.  He was about to direct his steps towards where a sign indicated civilisation lay beyond that exit when the other train drew up into the station.  He paused to watch it with a bemused expression on his face, not that he had never seen a train before but that two in a location which until recently could only be reached on horseback or wagon train provided some novelty to the visitor.

 

Doors from the carriages opened and closed with much slamming and banging, passengers stepped down to mix and mingle with the passengers already taking advantage of the stop over.  A young man stretched and looked around him, did a double take and then with all the bravado of youth cried out in a loud voice “Captain Cartwright?”

 

Adam turned slowly, unsure as to whether or not he had actually heard his name being called but when it was repeated he turned and watched as a tall young man pushed his way through the other passengers to reach him.  While Adam looked rather blank faced the youngster appeared flushed and delighted “Captain Cartwright?  I never thought I would live to see the day when I’d meet  you again.  It’s me, sir, William.”

 

“William?” Adam shook the hand that was thrust out towards him, “Well, yes, of course it is..” he smiled and the brown eyes twinkled, “You’ve grown.”

 

William shrugged “It happens.”

 

They laughed together before Adam asked him where he was going and why wasn’t he on board ship now?   William sighed “Well, sir, that time when I came to the Ponderosa with Mr Jamieson changed my life.  I did go back to ’Frisco, but I couldn’t settle back at sea, I just kept thinking how much I’d love to have a ranch like the Ponderosa.  So soon as I could I left and got work on land… its taken a little while but I’m …”

 

He got no further as a large red faced corpulent man thrust himself between William and Adam and grabbed at Adam’s jacket “You?   You here …?  You…”

 

Both William and Adam stepped back in an attempt to create some distance between themselves and the other man, but the hold on Adam’s jacket was a tight grip, and the anger in the mans eyes, the purpling of his face was sufficient to warn both of them that calmer measures were necessary.  Adam placed his hands around the wrists of his assailant and held them fast “Let go, sir.  Otherwise you could cause yourself some harm.”

 

“Why?  Why did you have to be here?  Of all the people…here…now… why?”

 

Adam’s lips tightened but as much as he tried to get the man to release him the tighter the other man’s grip came to be, “Let go, sir.  I warn you…”

 

“Cartwright.  Always the same, always the same …” the fat man was practically weeping with rage, sweat trickled from his brow, his hat had fallen with a thud on the ground and rolled unnoticed across the platform “Why now? Why now?”

 

A large woman came now and after a look of terrified anxiety at Adam she grabbed at her husband’s shoulder “Come away, dear, come way.  Leave him be, now.  Come on.”

 

“Madam, if you don’t get your husband to release me -” Adam growled and gave the man an even stronger push which, combined with the woman tugging at him, was sufficient for the man to fall back, releasing Adam in the process.  “If you could explain…”

 

He paused now, the woman was familiar to him and now the name came to mind “Mrs Downing?  What are you doing here?”

 

Mrs Downing opened her mouth to speak, her hand was still on Downings shoulder but he twisted himself free, swung his fist and struck her forcefully across the face which prompted Adam and William to grab at him in order to prevent any further attack upon the poor woman who had fallen heavily upon the ground.  People were clustering in groups, stopping to look and watch, a porter came bustling forwards full of pomp and vanity shouting “what’s going on here, what’s going on…”

 

As though aware that he was drawing too much attention upon himself Downing turned and made an effort to run only to be caught by William who placed his hand upon the big mans arm and forced him to stop.   Adam was helping Mrs Downing to her feet and wishing that someone, somewhere, would take the poor weeping woman away.  He looked up and over to William who was attempting to persuade Downing to return to his wife and face up to things, but Downing was shouting the odds and looked as though he were about to strike the younger man  with raised fists.  Mrs Downing, once on her feet, only clung more tightly to Adam and sobbing loudly kept repeating “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

 

The people were dispersing now, they only had so long to stretch their legs and the incident was of little concern now that it seemed to be calming down.  Carriage doors opened and slammed shut again…Adam glanced anxiously over at his carriage and was about to pull away from the womans grasp in order to board before the train shunted off when Downing appeared like an enraged bull and threw himself upon him.

 

William was running towards them, blood streaming from his nose;  the porter was yelling “Now then, now then…you can’t do that, you can’t go around attacking folk, my good man.”

 

Mrs Downing was screaming and sobbing while Downing seemed to hang, suspended by his hands clutching onto Adam’s arms, his eyes protruding from their sockets, and his fat lips opening and closing like a fish snatched up from the sea.  “What’s going on, Downing?”  Adam hissed and gave the other man an impatient shake which succeeded in loosening the mans grip upon him

 

Downing staggered back, from his throat came a guttural sound, then a gasping, he fell forward into Adam’s arms and slowly slid down with his hands groping as though for a hand hold on Adams jacket, slowly  he crumpled upon the platform, rolled onto his back and lay still.

 

The porter stared from one to the other of group, from Mrs Downing who was staring soundlessly down at her husband, to Adam who was glancing from Downing to the departing train, and to William who was looking at Adam as though only he could provide the answers to everything.

 

“This ain’t right.” the porter finally said and waved a hand towards the small kiosk which appeared to be some kind of office, several men in uniform spilled out and ran towards him, paused at the sight of the body and then looked confused “Dave - you’d best go and get the doctor.  Pete, Jake, you two carry this gentleman to the office.” he turned to Adam and William “Reckon you two had better come along with me.  I think the sheriff will have something to say about all this.”   Adam released his breath in a long sigh, it seemed as though returning home was going to far more difficult than even he imagined.

 

It took another hour before the sheriff could assemble the three of them together in his room.  The Doctor had declared the late departed Andrew Philip Downing dead due to a massive stroke which Mrs Downing had accepted with a calm that indicated her husbands death was a release not only for him, but also for herself. 

 

Adam paced the floor and attempted to keep calm as the sheriff went through his questions.. Names, addresses, date of birth …why oh why bother, the man was dead, wasn;t he?   William gave his statement and then wryly muttered that he had lost the opportunity of a lifetime as he’d never get to an appointment in time having missed the train due to Downing’s attack on the Captain.

 

From henceforth the sheriff insisted on addressing Adam as Captain … despite Adam insisting that he no longer held that rank, nor any other rank, he was a private citizen and would prefer to be addressed as such.  Mrs Downing sat in silence with her head bowed as she tried to work out some way to refer to her husband without having to relate the incidents that had taken place in Virginia City. 

 

Sheriff Everson sat back with his arms folded across his chest and stared at Adam gloomily “So you ain’t got no reason or explanation as to why this gentleman made an unprovoked attack upon you, Captain?”

 

“For the third and last time, I have no idea… why not ask Mrs Downing, perhaps she would be able to give you an explanation, because I can’t…”

 

“Losing your temper won’t help, sir.” Everson intoned gravely in a manner most likely to cause Adam to lose it altogether,  he gave the ’Captain’ a lofty glare and then turned to Tracy.  He lowered and gentled his voice considerably as he remembered that she was now a widow of only a few hours duration.  Casting a quick glance over at Adam to make sure he was ’behaving’ Everson said softly “Mrs Downing, can you give any explanation as to why your husband attacked the Captain.”

 

Mrs Downing sighed and cleared her throat “To be honest, I mean, well, you see … it’s like this, sir, my husband and I have ran a mercantile store in Virginia City for a long time, and recently, due to some reverses, we decided to leave there and see if we could do better in Yuma.  Our son lives there now, you see…”

 

Adam paused in scowling and looked at the woman thoughtfully, he opened his mouth and then closed it again as he waited for her to continue with her version of events.  The sheriff looked over at him with narrowed eyes and then returned his attention to her “I see,”  he paused, not seeing anything at all, “But that doesn’t explain …”

 

“I was coming to that… my husband has always had a resentment against the Cartwright family, I don’t know why, I could  never understand it myself, as I said to him the other day, they’ve always been generous to us, helped us when we needed help and he - he just couldn’t see it himself.  He was always angry you see, when other people got on well in life, it made him bitter - some people are like that, aren’t they?”

 

She looked at him, wide eyed, appealing to his sense of tolerance of other peoples weaknesses and so he nodded and muttered something while William and Adam exchanged sighs and raised eyebrows.

 

“All he wanted was to leave Virginia City and get away from the Cartwrights, he kept on and on about them  and then seeing the Captain… I mean Commodore … er - Mr Cartwright … he just went …” she paused as she tried to put into words what had happened in that train carriage, the way her husband had sprung up in his seat and shouted aloud at seeing Adam Cartwright on the platform, how he had just unravelled there and then in front of her very eyes, as though he had seen a ghost or the devil himself.  “It was just that he was the last person on earth my husband would want to have seen, he just went crazy.”

 

“The Captain did nothing to cause your husband to attack him then?  Apart from being there …” Everson asked again

 

“Oh Mr Cartwright was doing nothing but chatting to the young man here, Mr Cartwright, like all his family, have only ever been kind and generous to us.”

 

Everson gave her a long hard look, as hard as he could considering her condition, he sighed and nodded, looked over at Adam and then at William “Very well, if that’s all you can tell me, you can go.”

 

None of them were very happy about just up and going… William had lost his chance of an interview for the job he was hoping would launch him into a prosperous future, Adam had missed the train and was not going to be at the station where his family would be waiting for him and Mrs Downing just wished that she could slip away somewhere and never see any of them again.  The last thing she wanted to do was have the situation in Virginia City open for discussion now, not with Adam Cartwright and so she sat there with slumped shoulders and head bowed.

 

She jumped as a hand touched her gently on the shoulder and upon looking up saw Adam smiling kindly at her “Mrs Downing, is there anything I can do for you now?  Any arrangements that need to be seen to that I can assist you with?”

 

For a moment the thought crossed his mind that she was going to go the same way as her husband, but thankfully she rallied and shook her head “No, that’s alright, Mr Cartwright. Thank you.”  she stood up then and pulled an envelope from her purse “When you see Sheriff Canaday could you give him this.”

 

“Certainly, of course.  If that’s all I can do for you?” he paused, a little puzzled by the expression on her face as she stared at him  “Can I get a room booked for you, in the hotel?  There won’t  be another train for a few days to Yuma.”

 

She shook her head and forced a smile, “No, no, I can manage.”

 

He nodded and stepped back with his  head slightly to one side as he watched her leave the office.  Everson was shuffling papers about and William was standing by the door, looking helpless and anxious.  “I have things to do..” Everson muttered which was clear enough indication that they should leave him in peace to get on with things.

 

The two men left and walked down towards the hotel, William looked over at Adam “Have  you long to wait for the next train, sir?”

 

“Monday morning.” Adam sighed and looked across to the telegraph office which had a big CLOSED sign, “What about yourself?”

 

“A few days to wait, I’ll go back to the place where I’ve been working lately.  Mr Madely won’t mind, he might even give me a reference so I can reapply for the job.”

 

Adam smiled and nodded “Come along, I’ll treat you to a meal… looks like the restaurants open if nothing else is in this place.”

 

He pushed his hat slightly back from his brow and walked more confidently along the sidewalk to the restaurant with William at his side, they fell into chatter about old ship mates, their adventure when Mr Jamieson had to help the Captain with Mr Metcalfe, oh it seemed so long ago.

 

Mrs Downing watched them as they passed the hotel door, she wondered if he knew, Adam Cartwright that is, whether he knew that her husband had burned down the Ponderosa, that her son had nearly killed his son… she wondered what he would have done had he known, when Andy Downing had grabbed at his jacket would Adam Cartwright have managed to contain his anger… or would he have struck out that final blow and seen Downing fall.  She shook her head, it hardly mattered now, her husband was dead, and she was free.  Her only regret was that it hadn’t  happened sooner, so that Leslie could have had a decent life, and been happy;  so that she could have been free and never feared that fist raised to her in anger ever again.

 

It was a strange thing, she mused as she made her way to the hotel to register for a room, but it seemed almost like fate that Adam Cartwright had stepped off that train just as Andy Downing had looked out of the window and seen him…  almost as though it just had to be !

 

Chapter 81

 

Adam threw another handful of twigs onto the fire and then sat back to watch as the flames slowly ate into them.  Of course it would have been more comfortable to book into the modest hotel in that settlement and wait out the hours until noon the next day when the train would be available, but that meant over 24 hours just wasting time.  Again it could have been argued that a train would have taken him onto his destination far more quickly, once he was on board, but … he shook his head… all that time just kicking  his heels when he could be on a horse and using his time to greater effect.

 

He wasn’t really sure though if that was the real reason, he just knew that hanging around with time ticking away, just waiting… nothing could have been more frustrating, irritating and annoying than just watching a clock tick away hours and minutes and doing nothing!

 

He leaned forward now to pick up the coffee pot and pour out the hot brown liquid into the cup.  Meat was sizzling over the flames and he had brought along some bread, some fruit to eat as his supper. He could hear the sound of his horse cropping the grass nearby, and with a sigh leaned  back against a boulder to drink the coffee and think over all that he had learned from Mrs Downing.

 

Mrs Downing… yes, and that meant thoughts of a very unpleasant nature coming to mind about Mr Downing and his wretched son.  As he swallowed the coffee Adam wished he hadn’t found out about the events that had been taking place during his absence, too many emotions raged through him at the thought, and his  brain wouldn’t leave the matter alone, not for an instant.   As he had ridden away from the town, as he had made up his camp fire and hunted down his meal, every minute had been consumed by thoughts of what had happened to his family, to his son, to his home…it ate him up so much that he wondered if he would have been sane had he stayed back in town waiting for that wretched train.

 

Mrs Downing … he sighed deeply and refilled the cup, turned the meat over to burn more evenly … leaned back again and hugged his drink against his chest as he recalled to mind, for the umpteenth time, how Mrs Downing had appeared just when he and William were shaking hands and parting company.  She had just stood there staring at him and he had smiled, nodded, removed his hat and smiled back “Is there anything I can do for you, M’am?”

 

She had shaken her head, gulped and then looked at him with the utter misery of a broken woman so obvious upon her face that he had approached her and kindly led her to a table and some chairs, “Sit down for a moment.  Can I get  you a drink, something … you’ve had a shock and …” 

 

She had shaken her head and then grabbed at one of his  hands, “Mr Cartwright, I’m so sorry, so sorry.”  she had started to cry then, shaking her head and moaning so that he had felt rather embarrassed, people had been walking past them and looking over at them and he had sat down opposite her and tried to look sympathetic.

 

A waiter had arrived and asked if anything was needed, so Adam had requested some coffee for them both, then he had waited for her to calm down and explain what it was that she was so sorry about, and after a few moments she had told him… everything.

 

It had all gone back such a long time, right back to the time when Tom Sladen had become The Boss.   The Downings hadn’t long moved into Virginia City and were just starting up with their Mercantile Store.  Sladens ideas on running a haulage company had practically seen the embryo business nearly die there and then, and of course, everyone knew that Sladen and Cartwright were good friends.  Andrew Downing hadn’t believed the story that was not the case especially when it had all seemed to calm down and business began to perk up.

 

“It’s like this,” she had blubbered, “My husband was a small minded jealous kind of man.  He didn’t like seeing folk get on.  He was probably among those who were quite happy to see Mr Cameron get shot that time when Sam Bryant tried to take over, it meant more business for us, you see?  He - he grew to hate your family…”

 

Adam had fidgeted a little, and she had noticed and blubbered a bit more, “Please be patient, I want you to understand why - why he did what he did, why Leslie turned out how he is, and why he shot those children.”

 

“Shot what children?  Who?”  she had his attention now, his eyes had darkened and his mouth went tight so she told him all about the shooting in the playground and watched as the colour had drained from his face and then rushed back again as though his collar was too tight and he needed to loosen it. 

 

He hadn’t asked her any questions but beckoned for more coffee while she had sat there telling him how Reuben had broken the store window with his sling shot, and Jamie Watt had been there as well, and how angry her husband had been about it.  She had blown her nose loudly at that point “I didn’t blame them, I could understand why they had done it, because Leslie bragged about how he tormented the  younger kids at school, and how he enjoyed it as well.  My husband and he would laugh about it over supper some evenings, that’s why it was so hard to listen to all that talk at the trial…” she had paused then and looked over at him “Didn’t you read about it?  I thought perhaps  you would have known about it from the newspapers?”

 

He had shaken his head, gulped down coffee, marvelled that his hand wasn’t shaking as he did so.  “There was a trial then?”

 

“Oh yes, there had to be after all two children had died, Reuben had been hurt.  We went to see them, my husband and I, we went to see your wife and Reuben … that made my husband angry too, he said that his being in a wheelchair -”

 

“Who was in a wheelchair?” Adam had snapped abruptly and when she had stammered ‘Reuben’ he had moved back in his chair so quickly that the table had shook, he had seemed frozen to the spot, unknowing what to do next and so she had reached out to touch his arm “It’s alright,” she had said, “That’s what made my man so angry, we went to see them and Reuben was in a wheelchair, Andy said he was playing for a sympathy hearing from the bleeding hearts on the jury… but there was no jury you see, because of Leslie being so young… and Reuben could walk, he wasn’t in a wheelchair at all.  He was just fine, he really was…”

 

So having reassured him and calmed him down she had gone on to tell him about the verdict, how Leslie was taken to Yuma and they had sold up everything in order to be with him.  Adam had listened then to her stammering and gulping and weeping throughout the telling of her husbands going to the Ponderosa and setting it on fire.  He had sat and listened and stared at the empty cup of coffee and said nothing. 

 

“I didn’t know for sure, he never said he had done it, but there was so much going on..the smell, the whole way he acted, his hurry to get away… I knew inside myself that he had done it.”  she had blown her nose again “He beat me when I said so, beat me as usual and it made me realise that I had lived my life with a bully and that Leslie …” and she had began to cry again.

 

He hadn’t said anything, he couldn’t find the words but had stood up and walked away.  What else had she expected him to do?  Thank her for the information that had shattered any illusion he had nourished for weeks on end about the safety of his family?  No, of course not.  He left her there sobbing into her handkerchief and had walked out of the hotel and stood there staring out into the distance trying to make sense of it all.

 

That was why it was impossible to have stayed there in that town with so much going on in his head, so much misery and anxiety and fear … and now he sat by a camp fire like he had on many occasions before in the past, and thought it all over, again and again and again.

………………

 

The small group standing on the platform smiled at one another as they saw the train pulling into the station.  At last the wanderer was home again.  It didn’t matter how long for, just that he was home again at last. Ben put his hand on Olivia’s shoulder and smiled down at her, while she hugged the baby closer and felt excitement shiver through her.  As the carriage doors opened and closed with much slamming and  banging they moved forward a little, and Ben laughingly said “He’ll probably be the last off, knowing him..”

 

“No, no,” Olivia had laughed back, “He’ll be the first off.”

 

She was glad that Reuben and Sofia were both at school and they hadn’t told them about Adam coming home. It was going to be a surprise.  She hugged Nathaniel closer to her, and heaved in a big deep breath so that she wouldn’t burst right there and then with excitement.  Nathaniel wriggled in protest, she was holding him too tightly, he wanted to get down, he wanted his grandfather, he wanted to be anywhere other than there with so much noise and so many confusing horrible smells.

 

Passengers were walking past them to the exit of the station and to where the cabs waited for them.  The steam from the train was fading away leaving a clear scene ahead of them.  Porters walked back and forth with luggage, the railway guard was checking the wheels, another man in oil streaked dungarees was carefully applying oil to rivets and nuts and bolts, and the driver was leaning on the window frame of his cabin chatting to another railway official.

 

Ben and Olivia looked at one another, their smiles had vanished and was replaced with concern as they looked around them and saw no one else leaving the train, the only luggage to be seen now was piled on the platform awaiting its owner.  Ben stared at the trunks and boxes, Olivia’s eyes roamed from one carriage to the other …then they looked at one another “Have we got the wrong date?” Ben asked.

 

“I’ve checked and re-checked.” Olivia said, “It was this train.”

 

Ben nodded and strode forward, patting her on the arm in a ’I’ll deal with this’ manner as he approached the guard “Can you tell me -”

 

“Ah, yes.” the portly little man nodded “We couldn’t wait I’m afraid, had to leave, schedules to keep to and all that. We brought his luggage though.  It’s over there.” he pointed to the luggage they had noticed earlier

 

“What happened to prevent my son getting the train?” Ben asked, surprised at how breathless he felt and how jerky the words were coming out.

 

“There was an incident at Somerville. A man collapsed and died on the platform.”

 

Olivia, close behind Ben, gave a gasp and grabbed at her father in laws arm, but the guard just frowned “A fat man, name of Downing.  He and his wife were on the other train, going in opposite directions, not sure what happened except that he saw Commodore Cartwright - that is right, ain’t it, ma’am, sir?  Commodore Cartwright is who you are waiting for?” 

 

They both nodded and waited for the telling of the events that had taken place to prevent Adam boarding the train.  “He’d have sent a cable I’m sure except that it shuts on a Saturday, early.”

 

“Will he be on the next train?” Olivia asked with a slight shakiness in her voice.

 

“I should imagine so, unless the sheriff decides there was foul play involved.   No doubt he’ll cable you when he can.” 

 

People were arriving now to board the train for their destination, the guard looked officious and stepped back to do his duty to these new passengers having dealt, he hoped, satisfactorily with the situation regarding a previous one.  He nodded at Ben and Olivia and returned to his work.

 

“Well,” Ben said at last, “At least we can take his luggage back home with us.”

 

“And he is on his way home.” Olivia said with a firmness in her voice that was reassuring to Ben who was afraid of tears and an emotional trip home.  “I’m glad I didn’t tell the children, they would have been disappointed.”

 

Ben said nothing to that, he beckoned to a porter and indicated the trunks and packages awaiting attention.  He frowned slightly, it seemed to  him that there was a bit more than usual in the way of baggage but then, with a shrug, he left it to the porter to deal with in transporting it to the wagon. 

Chapter 82

 

Olivia heard the sound of the children before she saw them so was unable to prevent them seeing the trunks still waiting to be taken upstairs.  Sofia was the first to see them and gave a shriek of delight “Daddy’s home, daddy’s home…” and her feet skeetered across the floor as she ran to where Olivia now stood in the open doorway of the study.

 

The child threw herself into her mother’s arms in delight, hugging her closely “Where’s daddy?  Where is he?  I want to see him…”

 

Reuben was right behind his sister his face flushed and eyes wide “Mom, where’s Pa?  Is he home?”

 

Olivia drew in her breath and glanced over the heads of the children at where Ben stood his face registering his dismay at the children having returned sooner than expected, or perhaps they had just delayed the removal of the trunks for too long.  He cast his eyes in the direction of the clock, silently cursed the darn thing and then entered the other room

 

“Your Pa’s on his way home.” He said in his calm ‘let’s be reasonable’ manner “You know that, don’t you?”

 

Reuben frowned and looked from his grandfather to his mother “Sure, he sent us a telegram.”

 

“But where is he?” Sofia insisted, her voice shrill as she stared up at her mother, “Mommy?  He is here, isn’t he?”

 

“No -” she said it quietly, released within a sigh and the children stepped back as though doubtful that she was telling the truth, Sofia looked immediately over at the trunks, “No, he sent those ahead of him, just to remind us that he’s on his way.”

 

“Then why isn’t he here as well?” asked the forever logical Reuben who couldn’t see how a pile of luggage could arrive but his father couldn’t.

 

“Because something happened in the town the train stopped at, and …” Olivia paused as Reuben bowed his head and grunted “Sure, I know, Pa had to do something about it.”

 

Ben cleared his throat “He had no choice, Reuben, a man died and your father was involved and had to deal with it. The train driver had to keep to his schedules and wasn’t prepared to wait while it got sorted out… that’s all.”

 

Reuben’s shoulders merely slumped a little more and it was Sofia who asked why it was that her daddy had to stay and sort it out. “Why did the man die, Gran’pa?  Did daddy shoot him?”

 

Ben shook his head “No, nothing like that.”  he beckoned Sofia over to him and naturally Reuben followed closely “The man who died was Mr Downing.  He and Mrs Downing were at the same place as you Pa and it seems that Mr Downing was taken ill and died. Your Pa didn’t feel he could just leave them… could he?”

 

“Huh, he woulda if he’d known what he’d done, that Mr Downing..” Reuben scowled.

 

“I’m sure he did know,” Olivia said, “I mean, we all sent enough letters keeping him informed of everything that was happening here.  It just goes to show that sometimes we just need to be more tolerant than others, doesn’t it.”  

 

The two mutinous little faces glared at her and she shook her head “Your Pa wouldn’t want you both to be growing up into unkind people now, would he?”

 

“Mr Downing was  unkind.” Sofia said with a frown marring her pretty looks, “He was unkind and burned down Granpa’s house.”

 

“Well, we don’t know that for sure…” Ben said quietly, “We’re just assuming that from the fact that Reuben saw him driving around the Ponderosa that day.  He may have been there for some perfectly innocent reason.”

 

His voice trailed away, he saw Olivia looking at him with a ‘I don’t believe you just said that’ look on his face.  “Anyway, why don’t you clean up and then we can eat.” he took hold of Sofia’s hand “Did you enjoy school today?”

 

Sofia shook her head “I don’t like school.”

 

Olivia gestured towards Reuben as Ben and Sofia disappeared into the other room, “Is Sofia managing alright at school, Reuben?”

 

“Sure she is,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders “She moans all the way there because she likes being in bed and being with you and Nathaniel all day, and she moans all the way home because she doesn’t want to admit she enjoyed herself.  But she is alright, Mom.  She’s got some friends at school,  Rosie and Betty sales .. Betty only started school the same day she did … Annie says she’s always moaning about it too.”

 

“You are looking out for her, arn’t you?”

 

“Sure, mom.” he nodded, he didn’t like to admit that his playtime was being seriously disrupted by his constant ‘looking out for her’.  He looked at her wistfully “Pa really is coming  home, isn’t he?”

 

“Yes, of course he is.” she smiled down at him and smoothed back a lock of hair from his brow, “Now, go and do what gran’pa suggested, get those hands washed.”

…………..

 

Hoss’ mouth gaped open when he was told that Adam had not arrived after all.  He looked around the room as though he didn’t believe his father, nor his sister in law and expected Adam to jump up from behind some furniture “Dadgum, if that don’t beat all! You mean he really ain’t home?”

 

Reuben piped up from where he sat “His luggage did, piles of it.”

 

“Yep,” Ben rubbed the back of his neck “His luggage arrived, but he didn’t.” and once again he explained the reason for the delay that he had been given, “I couldn’t contact the sheriff because the telegraph office there was closed.  Will be until Monday.”

 

“Shucks, that’s downright orful.” Hoss lamented. 

 

Joe shook his head and grimaced, “What are we going to do about the party we were going to give him?”

 

“Party?” Sofia jumped down from her chair, “Party. Party. Oh yes… oh yes, a party.”

 

“Shush up,” Reuben muttered, “There ain’t going to  be any party, Pa ain’t here is he?”

 

Mary Ann laughed and looked pretty as she leaned forward to ruffle the boy’s hair “We can still have a party.  When your Pa gets home we can just have another one.”

 

Reuben and Sofia turned eager eyes to Olivia who smiled over at Ben “Adam may be home by Friday evening anyway…”

 

“Not according to the train schedule.” Ben muttered. 

 

“Well,” Hester sat down rather regally and clasped her hands within her lap “We can still have a party.  We’ll have it for Sofia… her going to school at last party.”  she smiled as the little girl pranced about clapping her hands “The children will all love that, I’m sure.”

 

“I’ll enjoy it too.” Hoss grinned and dropped a kiss on the top of his wife’s head, “We’ll just let folk in town know that the real party ain’t until next weekend.”

 

Joe sighed melodramatically “He should be home by then, surely?”

 

“And trust it to be the Downings to interfere, yet again.” Mary Ann lamented which made Ben laugh for some reason “what’s so funny, Pa?”

 

“The poor man dropped dead in front of Adam .. I was just thinking he must have had quite a shock at seeing my son if he had to go and do that ..just to interfere with our plans.”

 

Olivia looked at them fondly, she shook  her head and as she turned to the coffee pot to provide drinks for them all she thought briefly of Mrs Tracy Downing, and how she was affected by the death of her husband.  Did she see it as an interference in her life, or as a blessed relief?

 

Sofia couldn’t contain herself, she kept asking every so often “Is it really for me?  Is this party really for me?” so that in the end Olivia had to tell her to get to her bed before she forced them to change their minds and have no party at all.

 

………..

 

Adam avoided riding into Virginia City but instead took the short cuts of which he knew so well.  His heart did a leap when he crossed into Ponderosa land, familiar views and sights tantalised the eyes wherever he looked, the air was clean and pure, and the sky was a perfect blue.  He had plunged the depths of despair during the ride home but now as he was so close to reaching the houses, he had felt optimism soar afresh, remembering that Mrs Downing had assured him that Reuben was well, justice had been meted out, divine justice too if Downings death was anything to go by… now all he wanted was to get home, to see them all and hold them close.

 

The horse had been a good sturdy creature and carried him well as he had galloped, cantered and slowly loped the distance to home… as he finally reached the track to  his house he paused a moment just to quell the fluttering in  his heart that made his throat ache with emotion.

 

His home was basking in late afternoon sun, and he walked the horse into the yard and slowly dismounted.  One of the hands, Jed Affleck, strolled from the barn, did a double take and exclaimed “Hey, Mr Cartwright…”

 

Adam turned, smiled and nodded as the young man approached him, a bridle that he was cleaning in his hands “Good to see you again, Jed.”

 

“More than good to see you, sir.  The family sure will be pleased to clap eyes on you again, that’s for sure.”  he glanced over at the house “Ain’t anyone home jest yet.”

 

“Oh, where are they all?”

 

“Wal, the Missus and Mr Cartwright, they went into town to get some things, the kids are at school.  Probably on their way home soon.”

 

Adam nodded and then flicked the reins of his horse back and forth from one hadn to the other, “I see.   Well, in that case, I’ll go and check out the main house.”

 

“Ain’t anybody there, Mr Cartwright, on account of the fire you see.  You heard about that, didn’t’cha?”

 

“Sure, I heard…” Adam nodded and mounted the horse, eased himself into the saddle again, “See you later, Jed.”

 

“Sure thing, good to have you home, sir.”

 

Adam smiled, nodded and turned his horse round. It was good to be home, even if they weren’t there to greet him, it didn’t matter, because he was home. He’d see them soon, he’d see them all soon.

……….

 

It was a jolting shock to ride into the yard and see the house, the remains of the house.  He sat in the saddle and felt despair and sadness well up into his chest, shook his head and removed his hat as though he were witness to a death.

 

He sat some moments there, staring at the gaunt blackness of burned timber, seeing the chimney and hearth intact with the gridirons still in place, and the old kettle…  the rack where the rifles were kept was still where it had always been although the weapons had been removed.   There was no furniture, no burned or sodden remains of any of the furniture of which he had so often dreamed about, seen like old friends in his memories with the family sprawled upon various settee’s or chairs.  His eyes roamed to where the stairs had been but saw them ending as though truncated in mid air… the walls were blackened with smoke evidence of the fire having attempted to reach the rooms beyond the landing.

 

He dismounted and slowly walked into the building that remained.  Over his head he could see the floorboards of  the bedrooms.  Some he could see would need replacing but in the main they were still solid and sturdy.  Good Ponderosa Pine had even defied such a furnace as this must have been.  The back wall of the kitchen remained with Hop Sings stove but most of everything else was gone, removed and no doubt thought beyond repair. He wondered how Hop Sing had felt about that and sighed as he ran a hand over the surface of the cold oven.

 

He walked back into the yard and gazed about him sorrowfully, there was no sign of the porch, nor of Marie’s roses that had entwined the roof for so many years.  Nothing, but an emptiness with the rooms above hovering as though taunting the viewer to get up there somehow and visit them.

 

In the barn he found the things that had been rescued from the flames… Ben’s cast iron horses, a book case - but no books - there were some boxes full of kitchen ware, the familiar pink china that Marie had loved so much.  He picked  up a cup and held it in his hand, and turned it this way and that as he recalled the numerous times he may have held it in the past.

 

“Adam?”

 

He turned … Hoss…well, it had to  be Hoss.  Yes, his brother was running across the yard, a beaming smile on his face, his eyes lost in the crinkles wrought about by the smiles “Adam, I done been watching you for the past five minutes.”  and his arms came and hugged around his brother in his familiar old way that made Adam gasp and laugh all at the same time “Shucks, you look skinny.  You feel skinny.” Hoss exclaimed as he released Adam and stepped back to observe him more seriously

 

“You look well, Hoss.” Adam said and had to clear his throat,  bow his head and shake it as though by doing so he could stop the tears coming to his eyes. “You sure look good, brother.”

 

“Did you get our letters?” Hoss demanded as they left the barn and walked towards the house, “Did you hear about the house? Downing…?”

 

“Downings dead.”  Adam muttered off handedly.

 

“Oh yeah, sure, we heard about that…” Hoss tried to pull his face straight but he was too full of delight at seeing Adam right there before him, he nudged his brother in the ribs “Dropped dead in front of you, huh?”

 

“I think he was attempting to throttle me at the time.” Adam replied with a wry grin, “But yes, he dropped dead..and Mrs Downing told me about what had been happening here.  So much for thinking everyone was safe and well… I ..”

 

“Hang on thar, you mean you didn’t know before then?” Hoss looked amazed, stared at Adam so hard that Adam almost blushed, he shook his head, “No, nothing.”

 

Hoss shook his head “Ain’t that a fact… nothing, huh?  Olivia was writing so many letters she could’ve written a book.  Kept her sane..” he paused at seeing the expression on his brothers’ face “Don’t worry, she’s alright now, just that while there was all that carry on with the trail ..”

 

“Reuben - Mrs Downing said he was in a wheel chair?”

 

“He’s safe and sound, a tough little guy if ever I saw one.  He was kinda ill for a while,” he paused and looked at Adam, “Best you hear it all from Olivia, ain;t worth me telling you now.  Anyhows, “ he paused and looked back at the house “What do you think of the place?  Henry reckons it’s salvageable.”

 

“Yes, I guess so.” Adam nodded and turned to look at the building, standing shoulder to shoulder with his brother, “Yes, but there’s a lot of work to be done first.  Where are you staying just now, Hoss?”

 

“At Joe’s …” Hoss slipped his hat back on “You coming along for a coffee, they’re all there.”

 

“All?”

 

“Well, Hester, Mary Ann, and Joe…and the children.” he grinned, “Pa’s staying with Olivia, they went into town probably collect the children from school.  They’re planning on coming up to Joe’s as well.” his grin widened “Be like old times, all the family together.”

 

Adam nodded.  He walked to his horse and remounted it, looked at the house and then turned the horse to follow along with Hoss.  He wanted to see Olivia, alone, and he wanted to see Reuben and Sofia and Nathaniel…and of course, he wanted to see Pa.

………….

 

Hoss pushed open the door to the big room “Hey, folks, look who’s home…”

 

Joe was standing by the fire when Hoss stepped in and turned, paused and then gave a shout of delight at the sight of his eldest brother strolling in behind Hoss.   “For heavens sake, Adam, when did you get home?  We thought the train..”

 

“I got a horse, rode home… couldn’t wait for the train.” Adam said quickly and laughed as his sisters in law hugged him and kissed his cheeks, while he extended his hand to grab that of his little brothers “You’re looking well, Joe.”

 

“More than can be said for you.” Joe declared once he could see his brother for himself as the ladies stepped back and he hugged Adam to himself “It’s good to see you, by heaven, it is.”

 

Hester and Mary Ann began to talk at once together, laughed and started again, but Adam only smiled, until his face ached, answered as and when he could, while all the time Joe and Hoss observed him anxiously, both coming to the same conclusion that their brother was too thin, looked weary, needed rest.

 

Adam of course didn’t tell them how many hours he had ridden to  be at the Ponderosa as soon as he could, he didn’t mention to them about anything but listened to their accounts of the past months while they plied him with coffee, food, and he had to see Hannah, Hope and Daniel who all stared at this tall dark stranger as though unsure as to who he was, even little Hannah was hesitant about greeting him.

 

Finally, with his eye on the clock, he said he would have to leave, he wanted to see his own family in his own home.  Understanding as always they released him, the children watched him go and Hannah gave him a big smile as though finally realising who he was, it made him appreciate the fact that he had been gone too long, the thought was no comfort, as he worried now that his own children would greet him with that same puzzled air, the bemused ‘Who are you?’ look in their eyes.

 

Joe and Hoss walked out to the yard with him, Joe nodded over at Kamille and the colt who were pushing against the fence of the corral “They’re doing well, Adam.”

 

“So I can see.  Thank you, Joe.”

 

“My pleasure.  Come for supper, it’s all prepared…. We were expecting the family tonight anyway.”

 

He smiled and remounted into the saddle, nodded “Sure…” he shook their hands again, Joe and Hoss both, then turned his horse towards home.

 

 

Chapter 82

 

Cheng Ho Lee was in the kitchen, Adam could hear the sound of pans and pots rattling on the top of the stove.  The delight on the cooks face was sincere and heart warming, and when Adam shook his hand Cheng Ho Lee practically bobbed his head off as he bowed his welcome “Long time you gone…”

 

“Too long,” Adam agreed with a sigh and leaned against the table as Cheng began to prepare his master some coffee

 

“You go far?  Long way where no food perhaps?”

 

“Well, there was food, but not the kind I prefer eating…”

 

“Oh, not good cook?”

 

“Not good food.” Adam smiled as he recalled the crocodile meat, wild pig, roots and herbs that were tough and seemingly inedible.  “Do you know when everyone will be home?”

 

Cheng Ho Lee nodded and pointed to the clock on the wall “Maybe two hour yet.  Go on business, visit Missy Ann, collect children from school, then home…take long time.”

 

Adam nodded, “I’ll just go and get reacquainted with the place then…”  he accepted the hot coffee and bearing the cup and saucer in his hand he made his way from the kitchen into the big room, paused, sipped more coffee and stared at the fire, smiled at Clarabelle who was where Sofia had left her that morning, and noticed the toys in a neat pile by the settee.  It made him realise the reality of Nathaniel’s development while he had been away, no longer a little baby in a crib, but a child crawling around, perhaps even talking.

 

He sighed and then smiled to himself as he remembered that the long absences from home and family would be consigned to the past now, it was all behind him.  He strolled into his study and looked around, noticed the letters on the desk and frowned…Hoss had said they had written reams of letters telling him about what had been going on, but if that were the case…where were they?

 

He picked up a large brown envelope which had the Naval headquarters address and weighed it in his hand, surely not orders rescinding his resignation?  He tore it open and smoothed out the letter, which he noted had been dated some months previous

 

“Commodore Cartwright

 

The enclosed journals were recently located among Captain Daniel O’Brien’s personal belongings on the Baltimore.  His wife’s family felt that they should more rightly be sent to you as they contain details of your travels to Alaska and the Kurils, and the more recent incidents in China.

 

With our best wishes

 

Admiral Levy.”

 

O’Brien … he sighed and flicked the pages over while his eyes scanned the neat writing of his old friends, there were sketches as well, excellently executed.  With a pang to the heart he closed them up and set them down.  He simply put the other letters back on the desk and decided to continue with what he had told Cheng he would do…get familiar with his home again and notice the changes.

 

The guest room was obviously being used by Ben, the portraits of his 3 wives in their gold frames were grouped on the tallboy and had obviously escaped the ravages of the fire.  The childrens rooms, the room he would share with Olivia all brought moments at which to pause and dwell over fond memories.   There was no crib or bassinet at the side of their bed with the beautiful quilt on it, another reminder that Nathaniel was no longer a babe in arms.

 

With a bowed head he made his way down the stairs, paused once more by the fire place and finished his coffee, then placed the cup and saucer on the low table.  He pulled a face at Clarabelle as he passed the ugly thing on his way to the study and once there sat down and began to open his letters.

 

The ticking of the clock intruded upon his thoughts, the sounds of the hour striking caused him to put the mail down and get to his feet.  It wouldn’t be long before they were home and with the fluttering in his stomach that reminded him of when he was a small child expecting something wonderful to happen he strode over to the door that led to the porch.

 

 

The rig pulled up as Ben heaved on the reins and then slowly clambered down, rubbing his hands on his pants as he did so, and walking past the horses to help Olivia down, his hands round her waist he smiled as he set her feet upon the ground.  “Alright, my dear?”

 

She smiled back at him and nodded, then turned to get something from the back, and then she heard Reuben yell “PA! PA!”

 

Sofia squealed “Me, me, me first…” and then everything was a blur as the children jumped down shrieking like a pair of wild Indians, Ben had turned, slightly puzzled, mostly hopeful and then yelled “Adam … when did you get home…” and then she turned slowly to take in the moments she had imagined so often, the return of her husband ’home from the sea’.  Except this wasn’t how she had imagined it…  she stood there and watched as Reuben and Sofia flung themselves  upon the tall figure of a man who was laughing and hugging them close while one hand was being shaken by Ben who also had a hand on his son’s shoulder. 

 

“Oh Pa ..” Reuben cried, “I’m so glad you’re home.”

 

“Daddy.. You won’t go again, will you.  Daddy?” and Sofia squirmed into his arms as close as she could to put her arms around his neck and hang onto him so that he nearly fell over and laughed as Ben pushed him upright again “Daddy, don’t go again.”

 

He looked up and over at her then, their eyes met and almost shyly they smiled at one another.  Ben put a hand on Reubens shoulder and a hand in Sofia’s free hand and said “Come on, let’s go on inside…”

 

“Livvy?”

 

Her throat was too tight with tears and emotion to say a word, she couldn’t even get his name out through her lips, but stood there shaking her head blinking her eyes and trying to move her legs and then he was there by her side, his arms around her waist drawing her close and into him, holding her and kissing her face so that she could barely breathe until she wrapped her own arms around him and kissed him again and again. 

 

“Oh Livvy, my dear girl.” he whispered as he held her close to him, so close that he could smell her hair, see the tears in her eyes, notice the slightest of lines upon her dear face, he kissed her brow “I’ve missed you so  much.”

 

“I - oh Adam Adam - just keep hold of me for a moment longer… I just want to make sure this is real, not some dream.”  she gave a slight laugh, “It is real, isn’t it?”

 

“I hope so, I’d be really annoyed if it isn’t.” he grinned, and leaned down to kiss her nose, “Hoss said you’d written letters…” he kissed her throat.

 

“I did, we all did …” she whispered and kissed him in return.

 

“I didn’t get them.”  he sighed and raised her hands to his lips so that he could kiss her fingers, “Not a one.”

 

“Then you wouldn’t know about…”

 

“Yes, I know about that…”

 

“But…”

 

“Shush now..” and he held her close again “Livvy, I love you so much.”

 

She was about to reply when the sound of whimpering came from the back of the wagon against which they were leaning, and then “Mom mom”

 

She bowed her head and laughed a little beneath her breath, her brow touched his, and he looked over her shoulder to meet the dark brown eyes of the child who was now standing up gripping to the sides of a large box and staring at them with a slight scowl.  “Adam, your son… he’s grown a bit since you last saw him.”

 

Adam grinned and looked from the child to her, nodded “He has that… I don’t think he knows me.”

 

“Well, why should he?  He was only weeks old when you left.” she laughed as she said this and leaned over the side of the wagon to lift the child up, “Come along, sweetheart, say hello to daddy.”

 

Nathaniel didn’t want to say hello to daddy, he wanted his dinner.

 

…………..

 

There was so much to say, so much to talk about that for the first few moments voices rang around the room and got in the way of each other, words tripped over words so that questions and answers got muddled and Ben had to call out and say “Quiet, quiet now…”

 

Nathaniel clung to his mother staring at this newcomer with a serious look on his face and not a dimple in sight while Sofia clung to Adam like a limpet and kissed his face until Olivia scolded her to stop it before she wore her father out.  Adam laughingly said he was more than happy to  be kissed by his favourite daughter and didn’t mind at all.  Reuben sat on the arm of the big settee leaning against his father and staring at him as though he couldn’t believe he had finally arrived home.

 

Ben looked at the clock “Well, seems to me if we don’t leave here soon we’ll  be late for supper at Joe and Mary Ann’s.”

 

Adam looked over at Olivia and crooked an eyebrow, she pursed her lips thoughtfully, and looked over at Ben, “Of course we should go, they’ve been so busy cooking …”

 

“Aw, Mom, Pa’s only just got back.  I want to tell him about everything…”

 

“No, I want to tell him, I want to tell daddy about that horrible Leslie Downing and that horrible Mr Downing and I want to tell daddy about the fire and …” she paused and stopped in her tracks as she tried to think of what else she had to tell her daddy.

 

Reuben chimed in “Yes, but it was me that got shot… Pa, did you know that I got shot?”

 

“I heard something about it.” Adam replied with the smile slipping from his face, and he stood up, with Sofia still clinging with her arms around his neck so that she was more or less suspended from the floor…he smiled and kissed her nose …”When we get back, we’ll have to have a serious talk all about your adventures.” and gently unwound her arms and set her down on the ground.  He smiled at Reuben and then looked very seriously into the boys eyes “And I want you to tell me everything that has happened to you.”

 

Everything was a rush again, here and there, things to pick up,, things to leave behind… finally they were crowded back on the wagon and rolling their way to Joe and Mary Anns home for supper.

 

Being with his family now made Adam realise once more how much he had missed them.  Laughter, jokes, hilarity toppled one after another throughout the meal, and then when the women went to clear away and chatter together and the children played around them the four men settled down to talk.

 

“How long for this time, Adam?  Any idea?” Hoss asked as he leaned forward to look at his eldest brothers dark features.

 

“How’d you mean, Hoss?” Adam pretended to look puzzled, raising his eyebrows and looking at his brother as though he didn’t understand the question.

 

“Shucks, you know what I mean.. how long before you go back to sea?”

 

“Yeah,” Joe nodded “What leave have you got this time?”

 

“How long do you want?” Adam smiled and looked over at the children,  it amused him to see the changes the months had brought to them all.  No doubt about it, they were beautiful children and he sighed at the thought of how much of Nathaniels growth he had missed.

 

“Well,” Ben said slowly as he stretched out his legs “How about giving us a straight answer so we know, if that’s alright with  you.”

 

He nodded “I’m retired.”

 

They looked at him, at one another “You’re what?” Joe stammered

 

“What’s that mean anyhow?  You home for good?” Hoss’ eyes widened and he looked from one to the other of them, “Really?”

 

“Really, yes, my time’s up and I’ve been allowed to come home and stay home.” Adam grinned and leaned forward to pick Nathaniel up “Which means I can see my son grow up -” he looked up and saw Reuben watching him, and smiled “to be as brave as his big brother.”

 

Ben swallowed the lump in his throat “There’s a lot of work to be done, that’s for sure, could do with an extra pair of hands now that Candy is the sheriff.”

 

“Yeah… and the house needs to be rebuilt.” Hoss nodded

 

“Oh,” Adam grinned “I’ve already got plans for that…” he paused and held his son at arms length  “Livvy… someone’s awful wet around here….”

………….

 

The stars were shining by the time they had returned home.  Ben and Reuben walked ahead of the couple while Olivia carried Nathaniel in her arms and Adam held Sofia.  At the doorway they paused and turned to look up at the stars, then at one another “Home for good?” Olivia whispered

 

“Well, until Pa sends me off on a cattle drive…” he smiled and kissed her.

 

“No more going to sea?” she murmured as she followed Ben and Reuben into the house.

 

“No, no more going to sea.” he whispered as he closed the door, his hand on his daughters back and his eyes on the sight of his wife as she walked slowly, regally, into the house.

 

…………

 

Sofia sat in her bed with Clarabelle and Jessie crammed in beside her, she had her hand in those of her father who was seated on the little chair next to her and patiently listened as she told him about school, about Miss Brandon and Betty Sales and Rosie Canaday.  She didn’t like school she told him, she liked being at home with Ma and Nathaniel.

 

“Don’t you like learning new things?” he asked gently

 

“No.”

 

“Don’t you like playing with your new friends?”

 

“No.”

 

“What about the stories Miss Brandon reads to you, don’t you like them?”

 

“No.” she shook her head and the golden curls trembled upon her shoulder “I only like being home with Ma and Nathaniel.  I want to stay home, Daddy, can I?”

 

He sighed and looked thoughtful, then nodded “Tomorrow and the next day, you can stay home.”

 

“Really?  Truly?”  her eyes grew round and luminous with delight “Oh daddy, thank you.”

 

“Go to sleep now.”

 

“And will you be here in the morning?”

 

“Every morning, sweetheart.”

 

Her arms came up and cuddled him close “I love you, daddy.”

 

“I love you too, princess.”

 

He watched a moment by the door as she settled down to sleep, then smiled as he closed the door.  He didn’t  have the heart to tell her that tomorrow was Saturday and the next day was Sunday… but he anticipated the tantrums to come on Monday with a chuckle.

 

Reuben was still downstairs in his nightshirt and looked over at his father as Adam came down the stairs. Olivia was sitting beside him but stood up on the pretext of getting something from her work basket in order for Adam to take her seat, which he did.  The boy immediately leaned into his father, his head upon Adam’s shoulder “Did you have a horrible time, Pa?”

 

“In Brazil? Oh, I guess it was alright, not much to eat, and the heat was bad “

 

“You didn’t get shot or hurt or anything?”

 

“Not this time.” Adam smiled slowly and put a hand on the boys hands that were clasped in his lap “Tell me what happened at school, about the shooting…”

 

So the boy told his father about what had happened, his childish voice was the only sound apart from the ticking of the clock.  Every so often Adam raised his eyes to look over at Olivia who was sitting quietly opposite, her hands in her lap and her face thoughtful while her sea green eyes shifted colour as she listened to her son, and watched her husband as he sat beside him.

 

It was a picture she had not been able to conjure up in her imagination but which now, seeing them together, seemed so right, so perfect.  The boy poured out his fears, his horror at what happened until Adam placed a hand upon the fluttering chest and said “Its alright, son, I understand.”

 

Cheng Ho Lee came into the room with hot chocolate to drink and some cookies, he bowed and asked if they wanted for anything else and then bade them goodnight.  Time was ticking away, Adam gave the boy a mug of the sweet drink and then asked him about the wheel chair, about the trial and then sat patiently listening as it all poured out about his fear of walking again in case he had to go to school and be shot at once more.  But then he had to walk and he did, he walked and practised and everything went well, even the trial was not as bad as it had seemed to be.

 

Adam listened with his head bowed and nodded occasionally, then when Reuben had finished he hugged the boy close to him “I’m proud of you, son, really proud.  You faced up to an enemy that has beaten many brave men,  you know that, don’t you?”

 

“Did I, Pa?” Reuben gazed up at Adam with big eyes and a milky chocolate moustache and his father smiled “You did, son.  Fear has brought more brave men to their knees than you’ll ever know.”

 

Reuben nodded thoughtfully, then looked over at his mother and smiled. Olivia sighed and told him gently to finish his drink as the hour was late now, he needed his sleep.

 

“Can Pa take me up to bed?”

 

The parents smiled at one another, Adam got up and hauled Reuben to his feet and swung him up onto his shoulders and then, almost at a run, crossed the room and went up the stairs to where  Reuben’s room awaited him.   He lowered the boy down “Well, son, anything else you have to tell me?””

 

“No, Pa.” Reuben frowned and pulled the covers up to his chin, “I don’t think so.”

 

“Hmm, Uncle Joe told me that you saved the Ponderosa from being burned down worse than it is… perhaps he was mistaken, perhaps he meant another little boy… maybe it was Daniel?  Or Nathaniel.”  and he pretended to look very seriously thoughtful about it all.

 

“No, no, it was me. It was me Pa.”  Reuben giggled “You knew that really, didn’t you?”

 

Adam nodded and pulled up a chair to the bedside “Reuben, you’ve done a lot in these past few years, you’ve been a  real man of the house, you know that, don’t you?”

 

“I only did what you told me to do, Pa.”

 

“You did it well, son.” Adam dropped a kiss on the boys brow “You did well. I’m really proud of you, you know that, don’t you?”

 

“Thanks Pa.” Reuben whispered and hugged his father tightly, “I was scared though…”

 

“Heroes are always scared, son.” Adam said very quietly, “That’s what makes them so brave.”

 

Reuben frowned slightly, that was something to think about because he couldn’t imagine his Pa being scared of anything, and yet he was the best hero of all, wasn’t he?

 

“Goodnight Pa.”

 

Adam nodded, tweaked Reubens nose and then very slowly walked away from the bed, closed the door and made his way to the room where his wife waited for him.

 

She turned to look at him as he stepped down from the stairs, “You look tired, darling.”

 

“I am.” he admitted, and came to her, slipped his arm around her waist “Not too tired though.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Hmm,” he nodded and held her close, his fingers found hers and entwined them within his own, “I think we should get to bed now, and get some … sleep.”

 

She nodded but they didn’t move, just stood there together side by side, hands clasped together, her head upon his shoulder, until he sighed and smiled and turned to her “I love you, Mrs Cartwright.”

 

She just smiled dreamily and then laughed as he swung her up into his arms, so that her petticoats and skirt tumbled about her ankles and he took her upstairs to their room …

 

The moon slid coyly behind some clouds leaving the room in darkness, but they didn’t need any light from the moon, nor any lamp or candle flame.  They knew one another so well, fitted together so well, loved one another so much …   what joy to be home, and what better joy was to be found than this, to be loved, to love in return and be together in this way in the sweetest expression of their love.   Time didn’t matter now, it lay all before them …

 

The End

 

 

Shetland Islands

31^st October 2014